


Soundscape

by vforvesta



Category: Homestuck, 響け! ユーフォニアム | Hibike! Euphonium (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, SBURB
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2018-09-18 04:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 90
Words: 177,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9367745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vforvesta/pseuds/vforvesta
Summary: A group of girls are brought into a different world while playing a game, and have to do their best to stay together.Returns in September 2018





	1. Reverie 1.1.1 (Natsuki)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Each chapter will have a song/piece (sometimes more), a 'soundscape' if you will, that's recommended to be listened to while reading the chapter.  
> Soundscapes will be placed between two [♪], like this: [♪] Canon in D - Pachelbel [♪], and the song title should be a clickable link bringing you to a rendition of the song.

[♪] [The Greatest (Instrumental) - Sia (Cover by Emanuel Campañá)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dtlb78kvNME) [♪]

 

Sleeping and waking have become so commonplace for me, the first few blinks and innocent yawns a kind of drowsy, satisfying reverie. But this time, my head is heavier, and there is a strange kind of aching all over; like I’m bruised, but I don’t know where.

 

My earphones are strewn over the floor - that should’ve been the first warning sign. The second being that _I’m_ splayed across the room of my floor, like a concussed rag doll. I pick myself up, checking for any signs up injury. Nosebleeds, anything that could signify something other than fainting, or being knocked out, anything.

 

The second thing I do is glance outside my window, and I think my eyes are playing tricks on me.

 

Cautious but curious, I open the door of my room to find an empty apartment. Too quiet, almost unnerving even for me. I’m alone at home, yet the house seems to have hollowed out, lonelier than it should’ve been. Chills trickle from my neck to the tips of my fingers, and it’s not a pleasant feeling.

 

I grab the nearest hard object I can find, an undersized baseball bat from my junior high days. It’s wooden but sturdy, not a single splinter after three years of hard knocks. I grip the base with my right as my left reaches for my apartment’s door handle. Three deep breaths, and I open it wide.

 

My worst fears are confirmed, and I know that my window did not lie. The scene before me is beyond unfamiliar territory, without me even having to contemplate it. My gaze lingers for far too long before I snap out of my trance, and slam the door shut. On instinct, I double bolt it, and only then does the adrenaline start to kick in.

 

Panic, uncertainty, doubt.

 

Come on Natsuki, _think_. Or else this must just be a bizarre dream, it has to be, there are few other explanations. What was I even doing before this? Dreams have no logical start, so my lapse in memory must explain this whole ridiculous situation.

 

Pacing back and forth won’t help, even with all this anxiety. I need peace and quiet. I need my music. I need my sleep.

 

Baseball bat at the ready, I open my room door with a kick - after witnessing the outside, it pays to be twice as careful. Somehow the empty and undisturbed room has me feeling uneasy, as though nothing of consequence had ever happened.

 

Paranoia is dragging me into an uncanny valley I’m not sure I can escape from.

 

I find my earphones, hands jittery as I find a socket to plug them into. My phone seems to be missing as usual, so I head to my computer, the screen dark. At the slightest touch it blinks awake, light filtering from the screen beyond.

 

A familiar voice instantly cuts through everything else.

 

“-ear me? Oh thank goodness you’re finally awake, you twerp! Natsuki! It’s me, Yuuko!”

 

Yoshikawa? Now that’s music to my ears.

 

I’m not surprised, but hearing her voice in my room still seems out of place. I elect to plug out my earphones. The last thing I need is her screaming filling my skull.

 

“Sup,” I give a small wave, as though she can see me. “I’m not dreaming it’s you, right?”

 

“No,” comes the huffed reply, exasperated and worried all at once. “Kept up to speed yet? I’ve seen you fumbling around your apartment, and it seems decent enough of a first reaction to me.”

 

It’s my turn to groan, tracing patterns on my computer screen in boredom. “Look, are you going to get to the point?"

 

"If you hadn’t noticed, we’re not in Kansai anymore.” Yuuko’s voice hitches up an octave, her throat clamming up as she speaks the harsh truth. "Heck, we might not even be on Earth, much less Japan. And judging from the differing views outside our windows, the four of us might not be on the same continent."

 

"But we can still talk?” It doesn’t escape me that there are four of us. Some foggy details start becoming clearer, like condensation on glasses clearing up given time.

 

“Beats me. No signal to contact anyone else, so it’s using some other weird connection. Any thoughts you might have as to what happened?”

 

I give an apathetic shrug on instinct, and Yuuko’s screech comes so soon after I know that she has to be watching me somehow. A tad creepy, that, but not urgent enough to warrant my curiosity.

 

Leaning forward, I make sure my mouth is close as possible to my computer’s mic to annoy Yuuko. “Anyhow, I’m quite amnesiac, and haven’t the slightest clue as to what’s happening other than that I’m deep down the rabbit hole into wonderland. Any heads up would be appreciated.”

 

“We don’t have time for this!” Yuuko howls, but she regains her composure just as quick as she loses it, her breathing heavy. “Okay look. We were playing a game, the four of us. Something world building, like Minecraft, multiplayer based off local area network connections. Each acting as a server player to other, in a loop. I’m overseeing you, and you’re overseeing Nozomi, who’s the one who got us into this mess in the first place by the way.”

 

Ah, that makes a lot more sense now. I can already ascertain the identity of the final member of our party.

 

“I assume she and Mizore are alright, then? I’m last to wake up as usual huh.”

 

“No shit Sherlock,” Yuuko scolds. “Look, there are hints that we might be able to meet up instead of being separated by a screen and while I take no pleasure in seeing your smug face again, it will greatly help us in finding out what’s happening. Take your time to orient yourself to your land. It’s going to be your home for a while."

 

My mind flashes to the desolate landscape for a second before I shake it out of my head. Even with the window looming to my right, I can’t bring myself to look at it.

 

“Anything I should know?” I ask. “Are we alone, or are there others?”

 

“As far as I know, we’re the only humans,” Yuuko replies, and my heart drops at her specificity. “But there are others, yes.”

 

“Friend or foe?”

 

"I heard from Nozomi through Mizore that there might be hostile elements outside. She didn’t elaborate, but assured us that our houses are a safe zone.”

 

That’s good to know, and I can feel the tenseness in my shoulders fading away. “Alright, great. But I should carry around a weapon just to be safe?”

 

“Whatever you have to do,” Yuuko says. “And you’re connected to Nozomi by the way, so it’ll be good to get updates from her and all. Click around on your game client, you’re smart enough to figure it out.”

 

I grinned at that implied compliment. “Alright then, looks like I know my next few quests. Get through to Nozomi, get my bearings, but don’t stray too far from the house. Gotcha."

 

"Stay safe okay?” I’m surprised at Yuuko’s concern, but it’s well warranted. "This might have started out as a game, but if we’re careless I doubt it’ll end as one."

 

“Alright noted,” I reply, placing my hand on my computer lid. “Natsuki, out.”

 

And I close it shut.

 

Nozomi can wait, no matter how much of a darling she is.

 

I need to know for sure that I won’t be murdered in my sleep, that the creatures that may stalk my land aren’t mindless bringers of carnage. And if they are, I need to find some way of dealing with them, and fast.

 

The baseball bat lingers close to me, and I ensure that I keep my grip tight. Not much point preparing, best to just get in the thick of it. Not like strapping household appliances to my self would protect me from harm.

 

I pour myself a glass of water, gulping it down to stay hydrated. Judging my thirst, I pour another, and get through it halfway before deciding that I’m sated.

 

Made sure my keys are in my left pocket. Always remember the keys.

 

Then with one hand holding the bat, another on the handle, I pull it down and let my leg kick it open once again.

 

Into a wild soundscape of the unknown.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundscape is a Hibike! Euphonium crossover to commemorate its two years of amazing characters and music, yet giving a fresh take on our cast in a very different setting.


	2. Reverie 1.1.2 (Natsuki)

[♪] [Ruins (With Strings) from Homestuck Vol.5 - Erik "Jit" Scheele and Michael Guy Bowman](https://homestuck.bandcamp.com/track/ruins-with-strings) [♪]

 

I’ve never left my home city of Uji, and thus never have had the chance to see anything beyond typical Japanese scenery, maybe some mountains. Nothing of sharp, bubbling ravines that dash themselves into rivers or a skirt of desert so wide that it could drape around the waist of the earth.

 

So the first time I glanced out my window, I was in for a real treat.

 

Stepping outside my house, I could confirm that the ground beneath my feet was one I had never walked on before. And that the vast waste of sun and rock was going to be my new country of aridity. 

 

A mountainous region is what first comes to mind, but not quite when you look closer. There are no high peaks that pierce through low hanging clouds, nor deep troughs that hollow themselves out, sinking into the abyss and beyond. No, the landscape is more mellowed out, of average height in its bumpy texture, like dunes in a desert, but rocky. And all around, were holes burrowing into the face of these rocky structures, so much so that they seemed like entrances, a welcome sign into the dark. Which means that I’m in a land of-

 

“Caverns.”

 

I allow myself to voice out that final word, finishing my thoughts and cementing them in my voice. Junior high geography taught me that much, and I wonder if there is a sprawling network of underground activity snaking beneath me. If I squint, it's almost as though the whole land is alive, the rocks rumbling and shuddering . The thought makes me shiver, as though a giant worm would rush up from below and swallow me whole at any moment.

 

Nope, no time for silly mainstream conjectures. Most likely explanation - heat waves creating a mirage that makes everything fuzzy. Now, to get the lay of the land.

 

I’ve found my phone - in my back pocket all along, my sense of touch tampered with along with my sanity. Two buttons, and I light the torchlight app to provide a steady stream of vision three meters ahead of me as I prowl into the nearest cavern.

 

The piercing gaze of light loses its hold here, the blinding eye blind to my presence. In less than thirty paces, the air becomes cool and the ground damp, the walls moist to the touch. Clumps of darkness threaten to obscure my vision even with my digital torch, but I press on, step by step. I peek over my shoulder after four careful shifts of my feet, all the while taking stock of the sounds that echo throughout the cavern.

 

Five minutes in, and it’s still a straight path, no diverging crossroads for me to count on to get lost. Even if it does, the soil is stiff enough for me to make markings that can last, to guide me back. A yawn escapes me, and as the cavern’s tunnel takes a bend to the right, I position myself for a quick escape in case of danger around the corner.

 

My fears are unfounded as the passage opens up into a chamber of sorts, three quarters of a horizontal, elliptical globe that expands to my sides. I do a quick once over with my light, searching for anything foreign, and-

 

-there! Eleven o’ clock, a reflection that’s gives off a sheen of emerald.

 

I back up as I feel my surroundings stir, wondering if this is the end, my more pessimistic outlook denying objectivity, and my calves are already on fire even before I start sprinting.

 

“Please,” comes a voice smooth, concrete, and metallic all at once. “Harm shall not befall you."

 

I bite back a witty answer as I hold my position, and the creature before me extends to its full height.  Warmth emanates from its chest, and it’s not an illusion that I can see it more clearly now, a summer hue spreading through the room as though an external light source beyond my cold beam illuminates us.

 

It’s clearly made from rock of some sorts, and it stands at an impressive five metres, give or take. The creature is asymmetrical and bulky, like it was haphazardly put together, yet as though each piece of its anatomy was placed with care. In its left hand is a polished club to match my bat, and it wears a mask with familiar, traditional markings. From behind it, a single, jaded eye stares through, looking beyond me. Once it makes itself known, it stays unmoving, statuesque.

 

There’s an awkward stalemate of sorts, with its promise of benevolence reciprocated by my staying, yet inaction seems to be all it’s capable of. Still within the boundaries of being honest. I decide to take the initiative, or things would start being embarrassing. 

 

"What are you?”

 

A gentle grinding noise can be heard as it moves, unnecessary adjustments on the whole but inspiring in me its capacity for life.

 

 

"We are children of the earth, poetic beings forged from clay, mud, stone, soil." It pauses for a moment, four pudgy fingers in its giant hand flexing as though grappling something. The ‘we’ made me flinch, knowing that there’s more, even though I had been forewarned by Yuuko. "In some parts of your world we are known as golems, in others as trolls and ogres."

 

Now its eye shifts, and it’s more of a rounded pupil than an eye itself, like a gem at its core. And it shifts to look straight at me, acknowledging my presence.

 

"But in your culture, you know us as oni."

 

I struggle to connect the humanoid bipedal before me to the figures in paintings of centuries past. “Demons?"

 

“Not the picture you are looking for, I understand. Confidence in you must also wane, given the negative connotations of the name for your people. My kind have simply chosen a reference point most suited to your previous world, and this is the closest approximation we can think of.”

 

The fact that we’ve managed to hold a civil conversation without lashing out does mean that I should be able to relax, unless this creature is one of trickery, which I find more worrisome than the alternative. But I am getting tired, so I let myself sprawl into a comfortable position, and continue my questioning of the oni.

 

“So… what? You are an amalgamation of the different earth-like creatures across mythologies on Earth?"

 

The oni cocks its head to one side as though in thought, before turning back. "Not quite. It is more accurate to have my kind as a base form, from which all others followed suit. We are the original muse to your symphony of creatures.”

 

“No offence, but you really don’t look like an oni. It’s the most far removed from you, compared to the others."

 

"Humans have a knack for curating. I doubt our kind served as the only inspiration, but it is a major one."

 

"I’m guessing… we took the mask and the club, then."

 

There is a small whir of delight from the oni. "And others have chosen to omit it, or tweak it. Yes, you are catching on fast, young one."

 

Even as a giant, the oni fumbles as it moves, like a clumsy child unsteady in their walking. "I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself,” it gestures towards me. "My name is Suntory, of limestone birthright."

 

I try hard not to scoff. This one shares the same name as a brand of alcoholic beverages? “Is this the part where I find out that everyone here already knows my name?"

 

"Not necessarily your name, but we know who you are, and what you’re here to do."

 

“Well,” I pat an empty spot beside me. “Take seat, soldier, for I have absolutely no clue about anything here."

 

If that expressionless face could frown, it did. Suntory didn’t so much as sit as crouch, halving its height.

 

"For starters, you can tell me whether all the other oni in this land are as harmless as you, or whether there are other kinds of denizens here.”

 

“Denizens aren’t quite the word we would use to describe us - there is another of that name that lurks within these caverns. And besides aforementioned creature, no, there are only oni here, though each oni is unique in their own way.” Suntory gave a vague gesture, but I didn’t pay much attention to it. "As for violence. We are not programmed or predisposed towards peace any more than your kind are. We prefer not to use lethal force, although we are capable of doing so if threatened or if necessary. And there will always be the few who strike out on apathy and malice."

 

My shoulders slump, head hanging. "So I just got lucky then, meeting you."

 

"A nihilist, you are? Don’t have such a glum outlook on sentience. Have faith.”

 

 

“I’ll believe things when I have to, and even then with a pinch of salt. You’ve been honest so far, I think, so please give me the low down on everything. From the beginning.”

 

Suntory plods past me, and when I don’t follow, it gestures for me to do so. I let out a gnarled whimper, before rolling myself to my feet as I walk behind him, out of the cavern.

 

 

"Sing to me of the twelve, Muse, of nobles, heroes and gods stranded on a world far from home. Let our beacon of hope know the task at hand, how she will play her part and carry out her duties in this grand tale we all weave. And I pray that she will be able to fulfil it."

 

It chants an invocation of sorts, the words in strict rhythm with each of the oni’s heavy steps. We progress at a faster pace than I had entered, and before long the dazzling day greets us.

 

Teeth gnash together as I form a hiss, and hide in the grand shadow Suntory casts. Its silhouette is more pronounced, and I’m sure that its chiseled features would be that much prominent now.

 

"Let’s start at the beginning, then.”

 

Suntory takes two steps to the right, and I’m left to bask in the haze of light. I shield myself with my arm, and as my eyes adjust, I am once again left to marvel the scale of my cavernous new home before me. With a sweep of its hand, Suntory frames the scene before me, its voice clearer than a cloudless sky.

 

"Welcome to your land, Heiress. The Land of Oni and Caverns."


	3. Reverie 1.2.1 (Nozomi)

[♪] [Heroes - Måns Zelmerlöw](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-nbq6Ur103Q) [♪]

 

 

Dang birds just won’t shut up.

 

My land seems to be testing me the most. It’s a perpetual thunderstorm without the rain, the clouds buzzing with latent energy waiting to strike out, yet everything is sticky and humid. And then there are these pests with their cacophony of unintelligible squawks.

 

There is music, much like Mizore’s, but it’s a lot more dissonant, an omnipresent annoyance like some form of tinnitus. You’d think these chimes would be relaxing, but when there’s a thousand of them every square meter, and the weather basically screams hurricane, the sound would drive you nuts.

 

My patience runs thin as I slam the door behind me, caked in sweat that won’t dry quickly enough. Even in my haven, the noise continues to haunt me.

 

I need to check on Mizore, even if she won’t talk to me. I know she listens, and that she’s more compliant given the urgency of our situation, whatever her previous misgivings, which for the life of me I can’t remember or understand. Dealing with that kind of drama takes care and empathy, neither of which I have much of now.

 

Breathe in, breathe out. Same kind of warm up exercises before playing the flute.

 

The wave of serenity comes amidst the chatter of the gryphons swarming my house, and I make my way to my desktop. The air conditioning in my room is still on to work overtime for my cooler, given that I’ll be running the computer for a long time. I don’t get how electricity works in this alien place, but some things are better left unexplained.

 

“Ah, there you are.”

 

Hearing Natsuki’s voice brings an unexpected grin to my face.

 

“Hey sleepyhead! I’m glad you’re up and running.”

 

“It’s been a few hours,” Natsuki clarifies, her words phrased into a yawn. “You spent all that time outside?”

 

“It’s a charming land I have.” I muster sardonic energy from the gates of hell. “I’ve had to fend off flock after flock of shitty mystical birds.”

 

The chuckles from beyond the screen can be heard, and they are not helping. “Well, I can see that. A lot less majestic than you’d imagine?”

 

“They give birdbrain a whole new depth,” I groan, throwing up my hands in surrender. “Enough about them. What about you? How’s your land treating you?”

 

“Not as bad as you, I imagine,” Natsuki replies. “I’m blessed with sentient, anthropomorphic stone people to explain stuff to me, so I guess I went from zero to hero real quick.”

 

“Before you continue, I’m going to have you look away real quick because I need to wipe down and get a change. If not I’m going to catch a cold in here.”

 

Natuski’s mischievous expression carries on through her voice. “I’m a creepy pervert who happens to be way too lazy to change my position, so if it’s fine with you I’ll indulge in fresh teenage flesh.”

 

I roll my eyes. “Suit yourself. I won’t be long anyone. You were saying?”

 

I grab a towel I rummaged from my drawers, and start to take off my soaked shirt and singlet as Natuski carries on. “My new drinking buddy couldn’t divulge much specifics, but the gist is that we are now the protagonists of the weird game, which we’re still playing, believe it or not. And our purpose for now is to… build. We get resources from our lands, through exploration or defeating its inhabitants, and in turn use that to expand our houses so they become bastions of architecture, phallic skyscrapers higher than anything in existence. That’s part one, by the way, because we have to build this nonsense tall enough so that we can enter through its gates and reach the center of our universe. A lot more shit will happen… and I’m not actually looking, if it puts your mind at ease.”

 

“Don’t care, I’m already dressed,” I say, pulling a new shirt over my head. “Carry on.”

 

“A lot of other nonsense is supposed to happen along the way too, I guess. This is a hero’s quest which requires personal discovery and development of some sort. Yuuko mentioned a way to meet up, and I managed to clarify that it would be through these said gates, which by the way, are the circle things above our houses. We don’t actually have to build to enter these gates by the way, it just makes it more accessible? I don’t know, if you fall from that height you’re basically dead. I asked if we could fly or float up there somehow if it’d work, and the answer is yes, but my guide told me that it’s inadvisable to reach a stage you’re not meant for. Some nonsense like that.”

 

“I feel like you’re an NPC who just dumped a whole metric ton of exposition on me,” I tease. But my humour comes from a dark place. “I managed to excavate bits and pieces of lore from my land, but to think all the information was handed to you so neatly.”

 

“Yo, the NPC is the limestone demon, and I’m sorry for your loss. I truly am. I thought this place was shitty but I guess I can’t complain with you around, huh?”

 

"Hey," I start, the idea already ringing in my head like the infernal wind chimes that plague my land. "Could you do me a solid? Try connecting to Mizore, check up on her. I think you'll get more of a response than me, and I just thought of something that I wanna check out."

 

Just then, I feel a thud behind me, followed by the gushing noise of disconnected plumbing.

 

"Hey," Natsuki says, her voice sweet with guilt. "I heard your request, and I'll get to it in just a bit, but did you know that your server player can manipulate your environment? I suppose that's what they meant by build, huh. And whatever you do, Nozomi, don't head out the back to your toilet-"

 

Too late. I'm privy to witnessing my toilet bowl hovering in the air as though suspended by a shitty puppeteer, the base still stuck to cracked tiling. Natsuki attempts and fails to return the appliance, like a two year old trying to fit the last piece of their jigsaw puzzle. Throughout, my toilet continues to flood, water gurgling from the pipes.

 

"Look," I squeeze the bridge of my nose, exasperated. "Just... fix this, and help me out yeah? I'm going out."

 

I don't wait for Natsuki's reply. I'm getting out of this horrible land.

 

* * *

Gryphons are eagles or falcons with the body of a lion or something, right?

 

Not mine. They are hideous creatures, neck of a chicken or emu or dodo or some nonsense avian. They give a whole new meaning to the word ‘tolerance’, even counting for being in an alien land far from home.

 

Their quadrupedal bodies are only as 'lion' as their golden manes of feathers, fanning out like a peacock's tail but otherwise stunted, doing little to make up for their scrawny builds.

 

I can do this, I tell myself. I can't let this land get to me, I need to be able to do what I have to. 

 

The skies are a perpetual gray, a column of gryphons spiraling above my house, flock after flock in a mindless stupor. They match each spirographic ring, seven in total, but I can only see four, maybe five if I squint.

 

My fingers flex themselves. They’re not suited for the task at hand, but I have to try. I attempt to push all thoughts of playing the flute away. Nothing left of the gentle, nimble techniques I’ve used to hit my notes with precision in intonation and rhythm. Only a raw, primal strength to hold on, and then never let go.

 

That’s right, Nozomi Kasaki. You can do this.

 

I whistle as loud as I can, which clashes with the dissonant wind chimes, but manages to draw the attention of two or three gryphons. The things begin to swoop low as I steel myself for what’s to come.

 

The first one comes into range and I take a leap, only for the damned thing to swerve away at the last minute, and I fall onto the ground, landing on my shoulder blades and then going into a sideways roll. That did not go well.

 

I allow ten seconds of groaning before I pick myself up, already aching, but I can’t just give up. I’m stronger than this.

 

Four more tries, and each time I miss a bird, but my falls are much more careful. It’s a delicate balance between pouncing with wild abandon, but also making sure that I don’t break anything. But caution can be detrimental.

 

I need to do this like there’s no back up plan.

 

Bouncing on my toes, I give one more shrill whistle, and as the dumb fool comes flapping its wings towards me, I wait for it to come within twenty meters before I break into a sprint. My calves are already warmed up, burning, and my mind finds it hard to keep up with my body. Before I know it, I’m leaping, and then I collide with the gryphon, the wind knocked out of me.

 

My fingers threaten to catch rope burn, abrasions making sure I can never hold onto anything for the next week or so, but I dig into the gryphon, adrenaline numbing any pain. I have to be thankful that because it changed direction, the impact was much lessened than what it could’ve been. Still, hanging on is no easy task.

 

Even though they look like feathers, when bunched up they feel like the coarse bristles of a broom, and the infernal thing is flailing around, squawking, and I hang on for dear life, trying to see if I can pilot this creature.

 

Maybe I should’ve thought through this part first.

 

But I have no time for doubts, or looking down. I don’t let the fear claim me, because fear is the mind killer, and if I blank out, I will die from gravity. I have to keep my mind occupied, forcing myself to go into that kind of zone one enters when performing on stage, the kind of sharpened focus I have going into a flute solo. It’s a flow thing, where everything blurs out and only your goal’s on your mind, which in my case is the circular gate I need to fly towards.

 

Time seems to fold into itself, densely packed and compressed. I’m no longer keeping track anymore, muscle memory, no, muscle intuition taking over, as the gryphon and I hurtle past the first gate, going higher and higher, a suicidal Icarus towards the sun.

 

Altitude seems to be thinning and darkness creeps into the corners of my vision, but I know I have to hold out. Just a bit longer through the chaos, just a bit...

 

Third gate, fourth gate, I’m not even counting any more. Whatever it is, please just get me out of here.

 

And then as quick as it started, there’s a swirl as we warp through a gate, the scenery changing, everything a blur, and the gryphon comes to a halt on soil and grass, skidding.

 

My fingers decide that it’s okay to let go. I’m sent spinning, tumbling across the floor and rolling like a doll. I don’t remember much after that.

* * *

[♪][ 響け！ユーフォニアム (Last Ver.) - 松田彬人](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fR1_O-kjN_w) [♪]

 

How long have I been out?

 

I can’t tell, but I feel baked, drenched in sweat. But at least, there isn’t more any moronic squawking. 

 

I’ve made it. Wherever it is I am.

 

The weather's indifferent from my own land, in fact it's worse, the heat sweltering and unromantic. It's an awful lot more pleasing on the eyes though, a lush, tropical expanse. Fields of sunflowers and dandelions on my left, a path stretching out towards a beach basked in warmth to my right.

 

And there is music. Genuine, beautiful melodies in tandem with harmonies that drink wine from each other’s cups, that break bread like congenial siblings sharing a meal for supper.

 

The notes leave a trail that I almost feel like dancing towards. It draws me in, a husky, mellow voice that’s soothing and rich and a sound that keeps evolving and I never want to stop listening. It’s familiar and warm, like the crackling of a fireplace, and keep in mind this land seems to be perpetual summer.

 

I walk towards the left, the seeming source of all this music, and as I move closer, one sound stands out among the rest. A euphonium, not distinct to the untrained ear, but I’ve been in concert band for so long, of course I can tell one apart, especially when the soloist is good.

 

It can’t be Natsuki, because one, this isn’t Natsuki’s land, and two, Natsuki doesn’t play half as good as this. It’s almost professional, polished with mature depth, and it sounds like...

 

The path opens into a meadow of sorts, golden green grass undisturbed by shade, besides stray shadows from palm trees raking some fallen leaves into the darkness. An entourage of midget-sized creatures form a ring around a girl in the middle, framing her into a picturesque scene as her silver euphonium reflects the sun in it. She doesn’t stop playing even as I watch, her hair a tangled mess over her shoulder, slick with sweat. 

 

On closer inspection, the creatures that encircle her are miniature, anthropomized versions of various instruments, similar to the caricatured mascots back on Earth. But they aren't limited to brass and woodwinds, and I can see the shapes of string and percussion instruments in the crowd. Each of them produce an ensemble sound to accompany their soloist, but as the piece ends, they fade out, leaving the euphonium on its own.

 

The solo sounds almost better on its own, and I'm enchanted, as though its player is a witch and I'm caught in her spell. It's endearing in a curious kind of way, and it makes me want to hear more, want to know her more; want to know the artist behind the instrument, to pick apart the palette she uses to paint her song, the kind of mind and story that seems equal parts comedy and tragedy.

 

Even as she turns to me, sweeping her hair to one side, I'm left to wonder - what must one be feeling in order to produce such a sound? 

 

In her blue eyes, I find my answer.

 

“Asuka-senpai?"


	4. Reverie 1.2.2 (Nozomi)

[♪] [Arrival of the Birds - The Cinematic Orchestra ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MqoANESQ4cQ)[♪]

 

This is no time for jokes.

 

While I am relieved to see a senior that I respect, the implications of her being here are far reaching.

 

We are not alone.

 

“Ah, Nozomi!” she waves, and as she walks towards me the little musical critters follow her like ducklings to a mother. “It’s grrr-eat to see you!”

 

She stops in front of me, radiant and glowing, and with a flourish makes a sweeping gesture that ends in jazz hands.

 

“Welcome to the Land of Music and Summer!”

 

“Is that like the official name, or did you just make it up?”

 

“I’m offended that you think I’d be that blunt!”

 

I nod in understanding. “So our lands do have names.”

 

"Is it that surprising to you?"

 

"Not really," I reply. "It just gives some kind of order to this madness."

 

Taking two steps, I hug Asuka, and the feeling of another human relaxes me, never mind that we're both sweaty and gross. "It's really good to see you, senpai," I tell her.

 

I can't see her face, but I imagine that her features soften as she embraces me back in kind. The height difference is apparent, and I'm already considered taller than average.

 

If Asuka's here, our worries-

 

"So, how did you end up here?"

 

I blink twice. Right down to business, as always.

 

“Flew through one of the seven gates on a gryphon, although I didn’t manage to see which one, but I was pretty high up, so one of the later ones."

 

"Ahh, those gates!” Asuka claps her hands together. "I knew they were portals to somewhere, but this is real good information!”

 

“They probably allow us to enter other’s lands. I was thinking about why there were seven gates when there were only four of us… but now it makes a lot more sense.”

 

Asuka nods, hands on her hips. “It helps to think in terms of game design. I haven’t played in a while, but I don’t think I’m that rusty. How about you, Nozomi-kun?”

 

The honorifics she uses… I’m not sure if she’s mocking me. “I’ve played a few, and game knowledge isn’t the only thing that helps. This whole thing is eerily similar to the plot of a light novel, especially the popular kinds these days. A youth gets transported into a parallel universe on an epic quest…"

 

“Except this one isn’t based off your traditional fantasy RPG. A lot more avant-garde and indie, but it’s to my tastes."

 

“So…” I ask back, wanting to get something out of her as well. “How many of you are there?"

 

* * *

“I just finished talking to Natsuki. This means that communication is indeed possible between even our different… sessions.”

 

“I wouldn’t use the word session,” Asuka quips. “Since we’re all in this together and therefore in the same ‘game session’, if you might. No, I think ‘cycle’ would be more productive, given the four-fold link between each member which leads back to the start, don’t you agree?”

 

No point arguing on such petty things. “Alright. But what worries me is a certain phrasing Natsuki told me, something the sentient creatures of her land told her. They implied that there would be twelve of us, but counting both cycles, we only have eight.”

 

Asuka’s expression is one I haven’t seen often. Deep in concentration, her mind focusing intently on the problem. Knowing how stellar of a student she is, I know that she’s a valuable asset.

 

“Four of us, and four of you, in a discernible pattern. Four third year band members, four second year band members, even though you technically quit. Which means-“

 

“Four first year band members,” I say, bringing the idea to its logical conclusion. “I’m not familiar with our kouhai, so is there anybody that comes to mind, senpai?"

 

I’m surprised when I receive the tail end of Asuka’s accusing index finger. “You’re the problem here, Nozomi. You quit, so you don’t fit into the pattern.”

 

It takes me a full five seconds to realise what Asuka’s implying. I raise my hands in defence.

 

“Hey, hey! I heard that-"

 

“Not relevant,” Asuka clarifies, somehow sensing my concern before I could even bring it up. “Of the eight of us, you’re the only one who’s no longer in band, and I’m trying to discern if concert band really is the pattern, or is there something else I’m missing?"

 

"Have any of the first years quit yet?” I shoot back.

 

“Well, no-"

 

"Then there shouldn’t be a problem!” I tell her. "It’s not like we were selected to play this game by some higher power. We created our cycles on our own based on our relationships and the game brought us into this… universe, and made us cooperate with other cycles which we also have relationships to, perhaps to make things easier on us all."

 

Asuka lowers her finger, her other hand rubbing her chin. After much deliberation, she looks towards me, more relaxed now.

 

"That makes sense. I’m sorry for flaring up at such a discrepancy earlier. I forgot that ultimately we are deciding factors ourselves."

 

She gestures for me to follow her, and I do as she continues talking. "It doesn’t matter that you quit band or not, because the bonds forged which led you into playing were formed during your time in the concert band. And your point about cycles being assigned to each other based on prior relationships seems refreshing as well, which narrows down our potential candidates."

 

"That’s right. Asuka-senpai, do you know of a close-knitted group of four which strong relationships to some of us eight who we already know to be in the game?”

 

There’s a skip in her step as she avoids the little critters that pool around her like planets in the orbit of a sun. “Four… no. I personally know a group of three, but there’s always a possibility of an inclusion, even if the last one's not from band."

 

"But this is all from my perspective. It’s very possible that I’m not the anchor point, and that one of you are.” She glances at me, giving me a once over. "Probably not you, no offence."

 

"None taken,” I reply.

 

“Anyway-“

 

The path bends into an mandarin orchard of sorts, leading into a stone-tiled road up to an unmistakably Japanese house. Wooden sliding doors open into the courtyard, with blue roofs giving the whole thing a nostalgic and romantic feel. I’ve never been to Asuka’s house before, but a first glance can tell me that she’s well-to-do.

 

At least, back on Earth.

 

“Come in,” Asuka invites me. "There’s lots to discuss and plan.”

 

The wooden door slides shut behind me, after I peel off my shoes and assume a kneeling position.


	5. Reverie 1.3.1 (Hazuki)

[♪] [Hyrule Field (A Link Between Worlds) - Ryo Nagamatsu ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jux1PCGJb1Y)[♪]

 

Ow…

 

“Careful, Hazuki-chan! Most of these rocks can be very slippery! One bad fall, and… I don’t even want to think about it!”

 

“I know,” I reply, glad that I had merely grazed my shin. “I won’t be getting help, and I don’t want to drag myself back home.”

 

Midori’s on the other end of my earpiece, a true saviour even when there isn’t any imminent danger. I'm a bit clumsy, and not used to being in unfamiliar territory on my own, but it's much better with someone to guide me.

 

I haven't been talking much to the others, but Midori has, and she claims that I've got the best deal, as far as lands are concerned. Two out of four seem to be monochrome and dull, described by Midori as gleaming chrysalises of promise, a shroud of distraction and temple to excellence respectively.

 

Her own land she describes as a kind of abstract fantasy, perhaps the most far removed from reality. Sapphires sprouting like mushrooms from every corner, reflecting light into a spiraling network of caves that culminate into a dormant volcano at the center. A lush, gem ridden forest of green litters the outside, her house hidden among the shrubbery.

 

And mine? My land looks like an amalgamation of images pulled from the tourist websites of Australia or New Zealand. Red and brown silt line the riverbanks, the streams and creeks forming the arteries and veins of this land. Everywhere you go there is a movement of water, clear enough that you can see the bottom as well as your reflection. And like a fence posts to barricade some unknown enemy out, my land sports thousand upon thousand of unique totems. Each with a story that I can only guess, and I feel like I could get lost in here for decades.  


We've developed a system for navigation using said totems, using distinct ones as landmarks as we map the lay of the land. Whatever inhabitants might live here, we haven't discovered them. 

"There might've been a civilisation, once upon a time," Midori deduces. "Otherwise, I find it hard to believe these totems came about organically."

I find it tough to wrap my head around the idea. "You're way smarter than me, so I'll leave the theories to you," I beam. "I'll just do all the leg work you need!"

Plants prosper amidst the fertile soil, and where there is brown there is also green, mounds of pastures as far as the eye can see. What I don’t spot, are trees, most of the flora no higher than my waist, but the weather is so cooling there’s little need for shade. The sun seems to be perpetually absent, hiding behind chunky fluffs of clouds that seep into the sky like pretty watercolours.

  
I climb a shallow slope to reach the peak of a rugged knoll, the terrain progressively more strewn with rocks. Upon reaching the peak, I find that the other side is much steeper, and because I have terrible coordination, slip due to bad footing.

 

My left hand gets snagged as I hold one of the rocks for support, and gravity drags my palm across the sharp, bumpy path. It stings the most when I reach the bottom, and I don’t have to look to know it’s bleeding.

 

“Thankfully there’s an abundance of water here!” Midori pipes up, relieved. “An infection would have been a huge problem!”

 

Once again, I’m saved by my land. Is there no disaster that can’t be averted here? I count my blessings while taking note to be more careful - I don’t want to test my luck any further.

 

No less than twenty paces away is a shallow brook, the water skipping across the larger rocks at a pace equal to my steady jog. I dip my left palm inside, letting my wound wash. The meat and tips of my third and fourth fingers are scraped, and the cool water bites into them.

 

Blood seeps from the gash and dissolves into the water like wisps, red flecks shimmering in the heat before they’re gone. At once, a low sound can be heard, a moaning murmur coming from all directions. It’s not loud, but seems to permeate the earth, an omnipresent yawn from the land itself.

 

“What… was that?”

 

“I don’t know,” I reply, but the brook seems to answer for me.

 

What’s the old idiom, blood is thicker than water? It’s not crimson liquid that appears before me, but more of a pink layer that skirts the water like oil, forming a path asking to be followed. 

 

Just to confirm, Midori asks me to walk until there’s a junction, and the pink layer turns right instead of left, the other half untouched and unblemished. This is leading somewhere, and by offering up my blood it seems I’ve unlocked some secrets of the land.

 

“There’s only one way to find out,” I whisper, gazing upon the winding road of water, my face reflected in it like a pair of rose-tinted glasses.

 

“Let’s go,” Midori replies, and I can hear her rubbing her hands in glee on the other side, wherever she is.

 

 


	6. Reverie 1.3.2 (Hazuki)

[♪] [Opening Screen - Maribeth Solomon and Brent Barkman (Sunless Sea OST)](https://failbettergames.bandcamp.com/track/opening-screen) [♪]

 

Twin peaks flank the valley with the river running down the middle. The pink shimmers even in the shade, and it feels ominous as my shadow blends with the surroundings.

 

After determining that the trek would be a long one, Midori had me go back to take a nap first and bandage up my wound, and to properly prepare for what’s to come. She’s right, because the journey would end up being a half day walk.

 

I had placed a landmark where the trail started, but when I returned the pink was gone, as we had suspected. A prick of the finger fixed it quickly, the snaking path of blood returning.

 

Which leads us to now. 

 

The sight of the gorge fills me with awe and terror. It is spectacular in how unfamiliar it feels, and me being a stranger feels like trespassing. I take each step with care, not just because I don’t want to fall again. My presence feels like an interruption, something that I just… can’t understand.

 

But it’s beautiful, and Midori nags in my ear, so I keep moving. That doesn’t stop me from voicing my doubts.

 

“I’m not sure this is a good idea, Midori…”

 

“After you’ve walked so far? Come on, Hazuki! It’s a perfect idea! I mean, when it reacted to your blood… it’s begging for you!”

 

I gaze upon the face of the mountainous walls besides me. “Then… why does it feel like I’m unwanted here?”

 

“We would all be scared,” Midori assures me. “I’m sorry that I might seem pushy because I’m removed from the action behind a screen… but! It’s too cool to ignore, don’t you agree?”

 

“I… I suppose so…”

 

“Then keep going!” she urges me. “I’ll have your back, don’t worry.”

 

That reassures me more, just a bit.

 

My gut senses that the path seems to be coming to an end, and I’m proven right. The valley leans to the right, before revealing a cave of sorts, the river flowing into the mouth. I take off my shoes and hold them in my left, my right reaching for my phone’s flashlight. Then I wade into the river, which becomes more shallow with each step.

 

It’s brighter than I expected inside the cave. The stream expands from a line into a pool of sorts, which then recedes into its edges. My feet are damp on the rocks as I walk out, and find that the cave doesn’t extended very far either.

 

Within thirty steps, I can already find the back of the cave, a dead end. Except… it doesn’t quite look like one.

 

“Midori,” I whisper, the way one does at a shrine or temple when everyone else is praying. “What do you think of this?”

 

A lonely set of rock slabs sit comfortably from the back wall, an organic but tidy structure. A single dull cup lies on the surface, the kind from medieval movies that might've had a golden sheen in better days. When I poke it, it doesn't budge.

 

“If the arrangement means to evoke religious sentiments, it does its job,” Midori says. "A chalice atop an altar? Yeah, definitely intentional, and so, the next step is obvious."

 

How can Midori get things so quickly? "It is?"

 

"Yeah! Oh Hazuki, you can be so slow at times. Blood has been a recurring theme throughout this quest of yours, and now a holy grail of sorts is right in front of you?"

 

The implications begin dawning on me. “Wha-? Midori-chan! You can’t possibly-"  


  
“That's exactly what I'm suggesting. And I'm being serious here," she replies. “Let the cup drink your blood.”

My hand goes to my wrist. I can’t believe that she’d have me wilfully self mutilate myself. “B-but! That’s a lot of blood! No way I’m..!"

 

"I don’t think you’ll have to fill it up,” Midori does her best to calm me down. "I doubt it’d be so morbid. A splash should suffice."

 

"Look, if this is going to be a thing I’m going to continue after this. It’ll be my third wound,” I reply, deciding that I shouldn’t disturb the ones that are recovering. The thought of being covered in scars just because this land feeds on my blood scares me.

 

"Yeah, I know,” Midori says. “But three times’ the charm, yeah?”

 

I pout, doing my best to make light of an uncomfortable situation. “You’re the worst.”

 

“If need be, I’m alright making the same wounds on myself in a show of solidarity, since I asked you to,” Midori replies, and I can’t tell if she’s joking or not. “They can be like… matching friendship marks!"

 

I’m not sure if that’s better or worse, coming from her. “That’s some weird way of displaying friendship,” I tell her. “And you don’t have to.”

 

Stepping up to the presumed altar, I take out the switchblade I used to prick my finger earlier. A clean knife that I place against the meat of my left thumb. I know hestitation won't do me any favours, so I draw a quick line across it.

 

Red drips from it, and I flick the blood into the chalice, forming a paint-like splatter.

 

And then… nothing.

 

I even wait while my blood falls like dew on the underside of a leaf. But still, no glowing, no rumble, no reaction.

 

"Aww," Midori whines. "I'm so sorry, Hazuki-chan, I thought-"

 

"No," I start. "Your logic's fine. It only makes sense, but..."

 

I pace towards the pool behind me, cupping my hands. "Maybe it has to be full, but not just by blood."  


 

I take as much water as I can in my shaky palms, and it stings a bit on my old wound. By the time I get to the chalice, most of it is spilt, but my worries turn out to be unfounded.

 

The moment the water touches the cup's interior, it's almost as if a spell takes hold of the place. Maybe the chalice doesn't have to be full, all that's required is for blood to mix with water, and like a witch above her cauldron I witness the consequences of my concoction.

 

First is the sound, groan that starts out as a whimper before escalating in magnitude exponentially. I can feel myself vibrating, and I'm unsure if my surroundings are shaking or if it's just my vision. It sounds as though the cave itself is a throat and the sound echoes throughout it, the source from within.   


Next is the geographical change. The center portion of the back wall collapses into itself, and a black doorway frames the stones and chalice.

"That's my Hazuki!" Midori laughs, and it's almost like she's in the room as well. "Are you ready?"

Licking my wounds, I can't help but grin at the pride I feel for solving this problem.

"More than I'll ever be."

I pick up the chalice; it can be removed now. I don't know why, but I suppose it might be useful. Maybe as an offering, or another key so that I don't have to use my diluted blood again.

Then, straight into the belly of the beast. And I’m hoping that the expression I’m using isn’t literal.  



	7. Reverie 1.3.3 (Hazuki)

[♪] [Hymn of The Cherubim (USSR Ministry Of Culture Chamber Choir) - Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SZQzW_QfPew)[♪]

 

 

Spiral stairs lead me downwards, and I descend into the darkness.

 

It can't be more than two floors below. And then it's just another tunnel, but this time there are torches to light the path. Whatever magical kindling there is to sustain the flame, I'm not seeing it.

 

The sound of a stream seems to flow around me, and it seems like the rocks lining the tunnel me are surrounded by the river. I don't hear Midori, except for her breathing.

 

I don't get fifty meters before the path leads to another set of downwards stairs, into a chamber.

 

I'm not sure what I was expecting. Ancient treasure or perhaps some super powered weapon? A giant beast like a dragon lurking at the end? Or a portal to another dimension?

 

It's the beast in the end, but giant isn't the adjective. Its head can be no larger than my torso, and it looks like an emerald rooster, with scales except of feathers. The motif continues on with the rest of its body being a serpent of a darker shade.

 

A symmetrical circle with complicated patterns hangs above us, the same kind as those above my house, and it seems to hum like a portal from a game. Besides that, the creature, and a circle of torches to provide light, the room is empty. I set the chalice down on the floor next to the stairs.

 

“You’ve come early, Katou Hazuki. Which well, is just on time.”

 

It... it speaks!

 

I squeak in surprise, before covering my mouth. My knees quiver as I back up, and end up tripping on the stairs. 

 

"Hazuki!" Midori calls out. "Are you okay?"

 

I shake my head, making muffled, squeaking noises as I still have my hands over my mouth. But the creature doesn't strike, no indication of malice, just laying there patiently.

 

A good thirty seconds pass before I manage to pluck up some courage, and bring myself before the creature. I bring the chalice along, and place it in front of me.

 

The beast stirs, and the body seems to uncoil beneath it, stretching out. But the head remains transfixed on me as it continues talking. "The weakest don't always stay that way. In this respect, you and I are the same. But whether or not you will be realised depends on both time and space. Will you be given the experience and room to grow?”

 

"I don’t… I don’t quite catch you," I reply, puzzled, remaining in a kneeling position. 

 

"What is it saying?" Midori whispers in my ear, harsh. "Hazuki! Come onnn!”

 

"Shhh..." I start, not wanting to be interrupted.

 

The creature cocks its head, and its black eyes bear into me. "Your friend won’t be able to understand me, and I likewise for her. In this respect, you and I are the same."

 

"What… who are you?" I ask, before adding quickly. "If you don't mind me asking, for I mean no disrespect. What is this place?"

 

If the beast could laugh, it sounded like it did. "I’m what you might call the guardian of the land, or the final boss, depending on your mindset. As for this place..."

 

Now the creature rears to its full height... which is quite underwhelming. But it manages to be intimidating enough as it circles the room, and for a second I panic as I think it attempts to block off my exit, but it passes the doorway without hesitation.

 

"That's for you to figure out. Its name and purpose will be revealed, in due time."

 

I try not to strain my neck, keeping an eye on the creature. "And... your name?"

 

The beast settles down after one round, a comfortably regal position.

 

"I am Abraxas."

 

The name sends goosebumps down my arms, even though it sounds exquisite and exotic. It sounds like the name of an ancient king, of rulers and deities.

 

It sounds like a name that holds power.

 

"You might not have heard of me, but then again most of your world hasn't. In this respect, you and I are the same," Abraxas continues. "I might not look like it, but despite being small I am mighty, a member of a great pantheon. We are also similar in this way, and your friend fits this mold even more."

 

That last part has me confused. "Midori?"

 

"Yes?" Midori asks from the other side, still clueless. 

 

Abraxas ignores me, tail sweeping the ground behind. "Your journey ahead is a tough one, girl. All the same, I will do my best to prepare you, even should it mean my demise at your hand at the end of the day. In that respect too, you and I are the same.”

 

Speaking in cryptic puzzles, using a repeated phrase whose meaning changes each time. I have a feeling that Abraxas is not here to give me a good time.

 

“But no matter. You being here now means that you are ready, whatever that entails. I am here to offer you a choice. The Choice, for that matter.”

 

I whisper to Midori, because making decisions has never been my forte.

 

“It’s giving me a choice.”

 

Midori seems to pipe up, after realising I’m talking to her. “What’s the choice?"

 

“Hold it,” I whisper back. "Abaraxas hasn’t given it to me yet.”

 

“Who’s Abaraxas?"

 

Abraxas sinks its head to the ground, tone hushed and low. “The Choice,” it repeats, as though those two words were the most important words in the world. “Shall come to you. One day, it shall appear before you, and you shall know it is The Choice you must make, and you shall know your answer.”

 

“I thought…” I say, without confidence. “That you’re giving me… the ch-Choice?” I’m still unable to say the two words convincingly.

 

“Child,” Abaraxas says, voice booming. “I have given it to you, by way of forming the idea in your mind of The Choice, a monumental undertaking of its own. I have created the relationship which will ascribe significance to your actions, and now you shall be left thinking, and pondering the weight of your decisions, and the consequence of your choices.”

 

The tail end grabs the handle of my chalice as Abaraxas draws it closer to itself. I sense our conversation’s about to end, and despite the seeming wisdom imparted to me, I can’t tell if I am in immediate danger. I glance backwards, seeing if I can make a run for it.

 

“Remember this, and remember it well. The Choice is yours to make, and only yours. Now sleep, Hazuki, and the next time we meet, I hope that you will be worthy of my audience.”

 

My head feels heavy, and Midori’s words feel like a world away, an alarm going off in my head when I just want five more minutes of sleep.

 

“Not that you aren't already,” Abraxas hums. “In this respect, you and I are the same.”

 

Those are the last words I hear, before the darkness claims me and I am left to sweet, sweet slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By now it's apparent (to all those who know) that this is a Homestuck crossover, or more accurately, Hibike! Euphonium characters in the setting of Homestuck. You can read the webcomic here: www.mspaintadventures.com
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed the story so far


	8. Reverie 1.1.3 (Natsuki)

[♪] [Cavern - Mark Mancina ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0jYNTHDOncs)[♪]

 

 

“So, these Denizens that you were talking 'bout. Tell me more about them.”

 

This cavern opens up at the roof, allowing the sun to sink its light inside. But its not a problem, because this particular cavern has a great lake in the middle, so I can always take a dip if it gets too hot. Very similar to Sootopolis from the Gen III games. Besides, evening’s about to arrive.

 

“I would, but I believe that my friend here can do it better.”

 

Next to Suntory is Ruinaulta, another oni claiming to be of aquamarine birthright. Whereas Suntory sports earthy colours amongst a base of beige and white, Ruinaulta reminds me of winter, of snow and ice and the ocean. Very unlike our surroundings. Their single eye behind the mask is a sparkling sapphire to match Suntory’s jade, and Ruinaulta is more triangular where Suntory is rectangular.

 

“Well,” they start, fidgety. “Are you thinking of this as a game to be conquered, the way it is constructed? If so, the Denizens are the final bosses of your land, although not the final bosses you must overcome. How can they be reached? Traditionally through entering the seventh gate, which will take you to the Denizen’s lair.”

 

I put up a finger. "Okay okay hold it. Lots to unpack here. Who is the final boss, then?"

 

"That is not for me to disclose Heiress, for it is not here."

 

A handful to think about, but I don't probe further. "You say traditionally when speaking about the seventh gate. Are there other ways?"

 

"Will you allow me to rephrase?" Ruinaulta asks before continuing anyway. "Traditionally, one builds up to the seventh gate, which leads to the Denizen. If you can find an alternative way to reach the seventh gate, that works as well."

 

This isn't news to me, traversing gates through unorthodox means. Nozomi had implied to me just as much.

 

"But to answer your question," Ruinaulta says. "Do you know what the gates are for? They are portals that are linked to an actual, physical location. Given that the Denizen is of your land, it is not impossible to travel there on foot, although it is normally inaccessible to the point where using the gates become much more convenient."

 

"Yeah... that makes sense," I think out loud. "Alright well, so who is this Denizen of mine?"

 

Suntory shivers at their side, and if you've never seen a living mass of rocks express fear you're missing out on life. Their voice comes like a reluctant creak of a door. "We typically do not say his name... names have power, and-"

 

"You seek power, do you not?" Ruinaulta interrupts. "Tsukuyomi is one you have to best one day, after all."

 

Suntory visibly recoils at the mention of the Denizen's name, and it is one I am all too familiar with. The Moon Goddess from Shinto legend. These lands are far too deeply steeped in human culture to be wholly alien.

 

Unless...

 

No. I shift the thought out of my mind, the implications way too far reaching and uncomfortable. Coupled with what Suntory had told me earlier... nope. Not listening.

 

"Tsukuyomi," I say, and in vocalizing it her name feels weird on my tongue. Names do have power, I suppose. "What is he like?"

 

"Like most other denizens, she takes the form of a gigantic serpent," Ruinaulta informs me, oblivious to Suntory's upset. "How gigantic you ask? Well, easily a good twenty meters tall. As for her details, you might wonder? Nobody really knows, for no one has seen her in the flesh. Tends to be that way for beings of myth."

 

"But," Suntory adds on. "They say he has scales riddled in moonstone. That his face is so clear that you can see your innermost self reflected in it. He is not one of raw power, but for subtle nuances, of layers that delve deep into your subconscious, of trickery and illusions.”

 

“Ehh,” I say. “I say that’s right up my alley. Fighting isn’t exactly my style.”

 

Ruinaulta looks at me, curious. “What is your style, then?”

 

“Maybe I could annoy the Denizen to death,” I say, half joking. “Why do I have do defeat him again?"

 

“Defeating a Denizen will grant you a massive wealth of resources, which will be essential in whatever task you may have ahead of you.”

 

I squint. “Mm, alright then. If it’s a short cut, I don’t mind taking it. Even if theoretically it’ll be some time before I face him, any tips you have? Or any information about his abilities?”

 

Ruinaulta reacts with glee. “Oh, he has plenty! Of course, there’s the massive body that could crush you to bits in an instant. But I’m assuming you want to know about the more abstract, supernatural abilities? As mentioned, he is quite the psychic. Gazing directly into his face could result in mental attacks of the highest degree."

 

“Don’t look at the face. Got it. Anything else?”

 

“Rumour has it that he is the strongest at night, and that the phases of the moon affects his power, although I do not know how. I heard from Suntory that you enjoy sleeping as one of your hobbies? I hope you like it, because it is said that he can also drag you into an eternal slumber."

 

My left eye twitches. Okay, maybe facing Tsukuyomi anytime soon isn’t going to be a good idea.

 

“I’ll cross the bridge towards the boss fight when it’s time. But you’re saying it’s inevitable?”

 

“A confrontation of some sort is, if you are to accomplish what you’ve come here to do.”

 

I cross my arms. “And you’re saying you can’t tell me what it is?”

 

“Natsuki,” Suntory replies. "I hope I don’t mean offence. But it isn’t our place.”

 

I’m about to ask why it isn’t, or if they insist on being so stubborn, direct me to someone with answers, but my cell beeps. Which means-

 

“Erm, Natsuki,” comes the uncharacteristically worried voice from the other end.

 

"Yo, Nozomi!” I greet back, trying to keep the cheer. As far as information gathering goes, I believe my afternoon has been splendid enough.

 

But in Nozomi’s hesitation, almost trepidation, I can tell it isn’t good news I’m about to hear. My expression darkness as I press the phone to my ear.

 

“What’s up?”

 

Nozomi sighs, and then gives it to me straight.

 

_“We might have a problem."_


	9. Reverie 1.4.1 (Kumiko)

[♪] [記憶の鎖 - 末廣健一郎](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w5kzqMo8GQM) [♪]

 

Fog, mist and disorienting light.

 

That’s all that awaits for me outside, so I stay in. It’s been slightly over a day, and my area is too depressing for exploration. Midori’s preoccupied with Hazuki, and Reina… I don’t really know what Reina’s doing.

 

Hng… this is frustrating.

 

I flop about on my bed, restless. There’s no internet, and I’ve run out of pre-downloaded movies or drama series. I could rewatch, but where’s the fun in that?

 

My euphonium sits in a corner, collecting dust and staring at me. I don’t really have the mood to pick it up.

 

The smoke howls like the steam from a pipe organ, a hallowed sound that plagues my land. Another reason for me to stay away from music. It reminds me of my loneliness, and what good is it to play alone? Just when I found meaning in music, a group of people I want to be with and make music with…

 

Uhhnn... why must it come to this?

 

I puff my cheeks against the pillow, kicking the edge of the bed like I'm swimming. I’m drowning in lethargy, inactivity, and I’m doing all I can to tread water and keep afloat.

 

What am I doing while everyone else is trying their best?

 

Okay, fine, Kumiko. You’re bored out of your wits, you have no motivation to play music and you’ve run out of entertainment. You’re too much of a coward to brave the outside, but there must be something you can still do.

 

As though on cue, my laptop screen lights up, a new stream of messages from Midori coming in. I’d given up reading them after a while, but maybe if I wrack my brain a bit and guide Reina or something I can be helpful.

 

It still takes me some time to muster my resolve and drag my lazy ass out of bed. My hair’s a mess, but nobody’s really watching, so who cares?

 

My fingers scroll the feed of messages upwards. There’s bits from Hazuki, but mainly updates from Midori. There’s a whole string from ten hours ago, and I take my time reading them, grasping the full implications of each one.

 

Midori @ 070614 0914: hazuki’s taking a nap now. i’m going to go out a bit, hope you’re fine kumiko!

Midori @ 070614 1108: and hazuki’s off! she’s a rly sturdy girl, so there should be no problems!

Midori @ 070614 1127: the path is pretty! i mean besides the blood and all, the surroundings are scenic!

Midori @ 070614 1129: actually the blood looks kinda nice as well

Midori @ 070614 1129: sry if i creeped you out :p

Midori @ 070614 1221: upd8: taking a lunch break, next to some river. there’s rivers all over this place lol

Midori @ 070614 1503: don’t tell hazuki, but i just think it’s a bit weird you know

Midori @ 070614 1503: her land is pretty much uniform with the totems being the only distinguishing feature

Midori @ 070614 1504: but even then some themes are more apparent than others

Midori @ 070614 1505: like snakes, or at least weird looking ones. and then there are other animal like creatures: i think i spot wolves?? and eagles and solid bulky human things and even more snakes

Midori @ 070614 1506: but what disturbs me the most is the congruity of it all

Midori @ 070614 1506: hazuki’s not paying much attention other than the fact that their pretty

Midori @ 070614 1507: but i see things through my screen and i can get shots to analyse them and the point is

Midori @ 070614 1508: there are patterns. recurring characters and squiggly symbols and all

Midori @ 070614 1508: there are interactions between the totems and within the totems, in some sort of weird order i can’t figure out

Midori @ 070614 1508: and then the thought comes to me

Midori @ 070614 1509: what if the totems are telling a story? much like most significant art

Midori @ 070614 1509: there’s a meaning to them, i just know it

Midori @ 070614 1510: and the meaning seems to be intertwined with all this and maybe even why were here

Midori @ 070614 1511: there’s the whole other issue about who made these totems but well. that’s for another time

Midori @ 070614 1512: hopefully wherever she’s going, we’ll get answers.

Midori @ 070614 1512: take care kumiko! stay safe

Midori @ 070614 1855: entering a deep valley! its pretty spooky

Midori @ 070614 1859: hey kumiko, do me a favour and reply when you see this k? so i don’t worry

Midori @ 070614 1912: holy cow she’s in front of this snake beast! kumiko this is huge!

Midori @ 070614 1914: kumiko i don’t know if she’s in danger, but they seem to be talking and i can’t understand anything.

 

A thumping sound interrupts me, shaking my concentration. I think it's my imagination but it's there, three polite rasps followed by a bout of silence, then it starts again.

 

There’s someone knocking on my door.

 

We discussed earlier, that there shouldn’t be any other humans besides us here. All our lands are uninhabited, one way or another, but it pays to be careful. Walking to the counter, I grab the first hard object I can find, a frying pan.

 

One arm raised, I open the door.

 

Finding myself face to face with Kousaka Reina.

 

She looks like a daydream, in a white dress that flows like water, the smoke bending around her giving her an air of mysticism. Her hair’s in a slick ponytail and her posture is one of elegance. On anyone else the dress might’ve made them look like a wraith, but she’s an angel from the sweetest reverie.

 

I gawk, looking like an utter fool with my frying pan.

 

“I found you.”

 

Not sure what to make of that, and weird noises are escaping from my mouth like I’m having speech problems. I try to focus on her, and then away from her, taking note of the weird details about how despite the door being open the mist doesn’t enter my house, like there’s an invisible barrier that guides it away.

 

Kousaka's eyes are richer than the purest cut amethyst, full of serious intensity.

 

She extends her hand, and I notice that her trumpet’s in the other.

 

“Come on. Let’s go.”

 

My brain short circuits.


	10. Reverie 1.5.1 (Reina)

 

[♪] [友人A君を私の伴奏者に任命します - 横山克](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OdPzoNfHTHI) [♪]

 

Kumiko makes a hiccuping kind of noise, flounders, and then slams the door in my face.

 

Not exactly what I’m expecting. The frying pan is a comical touch to things.

 

There is a bustling of activity behind the door, heavy, irregular footsteps, and then about a minute later the door swings open again, and Kumiko is there, puffing and heaving and unprepared.

 

“I… I didn’t expect to see you show up, Kousaka-san…”

 

Earlier, she was wearing a red tank top and blue jean shorts, but she’s managed to toss over an oversized blouse - white and yellow - to make herself more presentable. I appreciate the effort. She’s brought her euphonium along, and I gesture for her to leave it behind. We can play a duet another time, since the weight of the instrument will only slow us down.

 

Her land is a tricky one, perhaps the most inhospitable of us four. I can’t blame her for not leaving the house much until now, but I still wish that she had.

 

“Let’s go,” I repeat. I don’t wait to see if she follows, because I know she will.

 

Kumiko stumbles behind me as I halt, not even walking more than ten steps. There's no point without knowing where we're going.

 

I bring my trumpet to my lips. An incoherent puff will suffice, but that's an insult to a musician's pride. My fingers fly into a crescendo, my sound echoing throughout the land.

 

The wind produced cuts a path through the haze, and as I pivot my body I manage to blow away a larger radius of smoke.

 

To put it lightly, Kumiko is stunned.

 

"EHHHHH? H-how..! Where did you learn how to do that, Kousaka-san?"

 

I shrug. "I'm just playing the trumpet like I usually do."

 

"But that amount of wind… can’t possibly be dispelled from your trumpet alone, can it?" Kumiko wriggles her fingers, still trying to comprehend what just happened. "And your breath isn’t exactly…"

 

She covers her mouth to censor herself and I sigh in response. Kumiko then waves her hands about, face flushed. "I...I'm sure you have an amazing lung capacity, but that-"

 

"You don't have to worry about insulting me. I'm not that sensitive."

 

Kumiko cocks her head to one side, as though trying to catch me in the lie. I don't give her whatever tells she's looking for, and then she moves on. Such an intriguing girl. With a volatile range of emotions, from flabbergasted to pensive in the snap of a finger.

 

And you think I can't see through you.

 

"Well, I'm sorry nonetheless. And thank you, for making my land more negotiable."

 

The little hike continues in this fashion, Kumiko behind me, and me having to burst forth a scale or something every twenty to thirty paces to clear a way. Music fills the need for conversation, and I can feel Kumiko’s gaze on me. Ever so perceptive, and I’m not even sure if she’s doing it consciously. I limit my actions to only the essential ones.

 

Or is that in itself telling?

 

I can’t be so paranoid, not after what I hope to achieve here. It’s not that I don’t trust Kumiko, given that both of us are working towards laying a foundation for future friendship in our own unique ways. Rather it’s that she scares me at times, with that mask of hers. How can I know who she is if she isn’t so sure herself?

 

The incline begins, and I start to feel it in my calves. Kumiko is noiseless and without complain, even though I know her stamina's worse than mine. Then again, I'm the one in heels.

 

As I blow against the scenery, things become more apparent. Even without the smoke, things look pretty much the same. In this respect, Kumiko's land is much like mine. Shades of grey and a tendency for challenging climbs. Other than that, it is very different. To put it bluntly, hers is bland, insipid, soulless. And not to brag, but mine resembles a beacon, quite literally. It sparkles, a bit too much for my tastes, to the point where it might hurt.

 

I can see how Kumiko might be disconcerted. On top of the heavy fog, there are mirrors all around, as though each structure's made out of perfectly reflective material. Except with the sun being clouded out, the only thing it reflects is our hazy reflections, distorted and smudged.

 

"Doesn't it hurt?"

 

It takes me a few seconds to connect the dots. She must've seen the blisters that come from my improper footwear, the rosy reds at my heels. Genuine concern, or a sardonic jab, a comment with impolite implications?

 

"It does," I reply, careful in choosing my words. "But I don't hate pain." Both honest and from a position of strength.

 

I watch Kumiko's reaction from the corner of my eye. Her brows relax, and the corners of her mouth quiver as they turn up into a crinkle of a grin. 

 

"What?" she says, voice hitching. "That's kind of hot."

 

And I knew then and there that this girl's messed up in the most attractive way possible.

 

I wonder what that says about me.

 

"Pervert," I reply, curt, and continue walking.

 

It takes us no more than twenty minutes to reach the top of this hill, and the smoke starts to thin the higher we go. Much like toes jutting out from the edge of a blanket, the peaks rise above the shroud of mystery that clouds Kumiko's land, and at least we can see in front of us.

 

We pause at the top, where a glass bench and glass shelter allow us some respite.

 

[♪] [意識の萌芽 - 松田彬人](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5EJr0Vvk9r0) [♪]

 

"You know," I start. "I was really looking forward to showing you a similar sight. There's this mountain... it's really a hill like this, about the same time it takes to hike up. There's a beautiful shrine, and the city opens up to your favourite page in a modern day fairytale beneath you."

 

Kumiko's breathing is laboured as she sits down to rest. I can see her observing the skyline, which isn't much. Mostly the mist, and a twinkle from light escaping through every now and then.

 

The breeze is stronger up here, and if not for my ponytail my hair would be wild in the wind. "It's Mt. Daikichi, you've heard of it before?"

 

Kumiko's curls look like waves in a turbulent ocean, and while they are mesmerizing, I have to resist the urge to pull them into a bun or tie it up. It's getting messy and all over the place. But then again, it's a part of her charm, and nicely draws attention to her lips, which somehow remain healthy and bright and moist, which isn't fair, because I'm sure she doesn't use lip gloss-

 

"...familiar, I read up on it somewhere before. You okay, Kousaka-san?"

 

Crap. I actually spaced out. 

 

"I'm fine," I reply, deciding that her hair's best left as it is.

 

Kumiko places her head in her crossed arms, over knees tucked to her chest. "Mm... I wonder what the view's like without all this smoke. Maybe it's like the one on top Mt. Daikichi?"

 

"Well..." I reply. "It's not so much that I wanted to see it, but I simply wanted to do what others won't."

 

I lean dangerously close to the edge, peering to into the unknown. Slipping out of my heels, I let my feet onto the cool gravel, rocking back and forth on my tiptoes. "I mean... everyone's all flustered over our situation and wanting to explore to find answers... but here I am bringing you on an aimless stroll up a mountain to see a scenery that's not worth looking at. No one else would be crazy enough to do this, right?"

 

She's still watching me, only watching me. It's almost like a performance, the way I twirl to face her, my dress fanning out like a dancer's. "I had a feeling you’d understand, Kumiko. That's why I brought you here."

 

  
" I don’t try to get close to people who don’t interest me," I continue. "I never found comfort in finding others like me... you just get swallowed by the crowd, another faceless member."

 

  
"This isn't just being an entitled brat who wants to be different or anything." My steps get more animated as I pace around, kicking the dust around my feet. " I want to get better. I want to be better. I want my name to be known and remembered, and I want to do everything in my power to be the person I'm meant to be."

 

Facing Kumiko, I declare myself to her.

 

"I want to be special."

 

I pause to let my wish sink in, silence highlighting my resolve.

 

"You get it, don’t you?" I laugh, running my fingers through my fringe, walking towards her. "That sort of crazy feeling."

 

"Yeah... I get what you mean," Kumiko replies, tilting her head upwards to face me. "I understand how you feel, Kousaka-san."

 

I walk up to her, and place an imploring finger on her forehead.

 

“Reina.”

 

I say my name like an order, a command, willing her to remember it.

 

There’s a distinct change in her eyes as she looks up at me, gazes at my finger, as though I've pointed to her and chosen her. As though I've opened the floodgates that can never be closed again, and given her permission into the most intimate parts of myself.

 

I know I have.

 

Because right here, right now, she's an anchor. In a universe far from home, she's the only semblance to me I can hold onto, and I want to be with her. Tomorrow, and the day after, and towards a future I can only imagine, whatever adventures and hardships and celebrations, I want to do it together, with her.

 

I let my hand fall limp to my side, but not before letting gravity guide its descent, through the freckled bridge of her nose, following its shape and contour downwards, mapping her face in all its excruciating detail, finally allowing the alluring ridge of her upper lip to bounce as I leave it.

 

She echoes me, and it's like hearing a dream saying my name for the first time.

 

"Reina."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things.  
> 1\. With regards to timeline/chronology, Soundscape takes place a week or two after SunFes, so some time after S1E5 and before S1E7. SunFes is traditionally held in the summer, so this would be in June. Enough time for the characters to have gotten to know each other but with most of the serious development not yet happening (Reina did already do her smile though!)
> 
> 2\. What started out as a random character exercise is now on its way into being a fully-fledged series. I do have most of the plot for Soundscape now, and not just the bare bones. It's been rather fleshed out, and I'm pretty excited to bring it to you. The first Arc (Reverie) is mostly done now in my backlog, standing at 22 chapters, so this is gonna turn out to be quite the sizeable series. I hope you'll stick around for the ride!


	11. Reverie 1.6.1 (Midori)

[♪] [Reveries - Ramin Djawadi](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9_BixATx9FM) [♪]

 

When the screen blacks out, panic threatens to take over.

 

Being a torch of overwhelming optimism has always been a trait that suits me as a support of sorts. I cheer, I motivate, I help. As a contrabassist, I lift up the sound, forming the foundation for the others to build upon. Most of the time you can’t hear what I’m playing, but in my absence, it’s as though something’s off. And as a small, cutesy kind of girl who still looks like she hasn’t undergone puberty, people tend to not take me seriously. I’m still a ‘child’, after all.

 

I take it in stride. I’m used to it, used to being the sidekick and all. It’s quite enjoyable, actually.

 

A flurry of thoughts flood my mind. Selfish ones, like how all my work would be for naught if Hazuki doesn’t return - I can’t possibly be slacking off at home the whole day, right? I made it a mission to transform her house as a reward and present of sorts, to surprise Hazuki after her arduous journey, but now…

 

I really, really hope she’s okay. Because I’m the one who asked her to do this in the first place. If that monster…

 

No, no, nope! I have to trust that Hazuki will be alright. That when morning breaks, she’ll be alright.

 

But I can’t stop the uneasiness building within me. I need air. Walk it off, or something.

 

I have the largest starting house, which isn’t mine to brag about. All my parents', and the privilege they’ve given me. It’s a three-story maisonette, and tall enough that Reina hasn’t bothered building. All the same. 

 

As I walk out the front porch, I glance at the Alchemiter, a contraption the game provides which we haven’t really figured out. I mean, they haven’t really figured out. In essence, it creates stuff - literally anything - using the same resources used to upgrade our houses. Of course the type of items depends on the type and quantity of resources.

 

Basically a 3D printing machine but magical.

 

A few experiments lie around the alchemiter. As mentioned, I have had a lot of time to fool around and get the general feel of how things work.

 

But I guess now is a good time to step out on my own journey. The whole bildungsroman thing that I never really thought suited me, because protagonists are supposed to be cool, not cute. Nothing wrong with being cute, I love it in fact. But that’s why I’ve always believed those kind of things just weren’t for me.

 

My land can get a little boring after the initial novelty. Like the others, no inhabitants of any sort that I can sense. It’s a lush, rainforest kind of area, with ample shade and little soil. It’s friendly to me, someone who’s not really an outdoor, nature person.

 

But the defining feature, is the abundance of sapphires.

 

They sprout on every surface like cute buds of mushrooms, an epidemic infecting the land. These sapphires have an almost greenish hue, unlike the typical image of deep blue gems. How do I know they’re specifically sapphires? Other than the obvious sick jab to my name, the alchemiter has a certain scan option which allows me to check the component materials of an item, identifying the mineral. 

 

Other than that, it’s a forest that’s tinted in green. The land’s steeped in green, as though chanting my name with every inch of its existence. It’s comforting, and easy on the eyes, but I’m not used to it all. It’s overwhelming.

 

I wonder how far does this world stretch? Is there an edge, an end? How large is it, does it span an island? A continent? Or an entire pocket universe on its own, like a kind of virtual simulation befitting a game? I’m not quite sure, and while these questions pique my curiosity, the natural beauty of the surroundings distract me from them.

 

The litter of sapphires reflect off the strips of light peering through the foliage, illuminating a path of more sapphire pebbles that seem too contrived for me to ignore. I choose the largest ones, hopping from one to another, keeping myself on one foot for balance, daring myself to slip. The kind of childhood game everyone plays, pretending the floor to be lava, or a drop off into an endless space.

 

Doing exactly what I told Hazuki not to. I don’t take very well to my own advice, do I?

 

With each step the path opens up, widens instead of branching out, and soon I’m invited into a clearing. The trees encircle it all in a sort of ring, and the sapphires glitter like a river bed alight. I can see my face echoed in the beads, thousands of tiny tiny Midoris staring back at me, highlighted by the sun's flare.

 

My land’s volcano looms in the distance, the base not too far from where I am now. Despite being dormant, its shadow holds weight, and I keep my respects in mind. No need to stir things that should remain asleep.

 

One would think that the sapphires would catch all the heat from above, but the ground remains cool to the touch. As I move forward, I become aware of how the sapphires become more sparse, giving way to a stone at the opposite end of the clearing. Of course, I go to investigate.

 

The vertical slab stands around twice my height, covered in vines, lacklustre sapphires growing around it in the place of moss. It rests against a foundation of tree trunks, sandwiched at the base by a channel of overgrown roots I can stand on to elevate myself.

 

Even then, I need to be on my tiptoes to reach anywhere close to the top. When my fingers wipe the stone, I can feel the grooves and engravings, and it becomes apparent that this is a mural.

 

I spend a good fifteen minutes clearing the blockages, making lines more visible and smudging others. Some vines I have to tug really hard, even using my entire body weight as I crumple to the ground. Despite the sweat, aches and being out of breath, I feel a rush of excitement. My body's weak, but this much I can do.

 

And when I step back...

 

It looks like a jigsaw with mismatched blotches of greying green, rusty yellow, cooler shades of teal, depending on how much light it had seen. The mural's carvings are minimalistic and built on shapes, very art deco, in a style similar to stained glass in cathedrals. In the center, there's a girl. She's dressed in robes like a saint, or a martyr, or something akin to religious significance. Her hands are raised like wanting a hug, her feet dangling like floating on air. She has a mop of short, curly hair, a ribbon on the left side, kind eyes and rosy cheeks.

 

On her chest there's a symbol of sorts, a spiral that reminds me of a galaxy, or a black hole. It's mystical enough to draw away my attention from the girl, except I can't.

 

Because that's... that's unmistakably me. My visage, immortalised in stone, and it's unnerving yet venerating. This is the kind of nonsense that's made to be worshipped.

 

Remembering Hazuki's totems sends a tangle of palpitations down my arms, and when I look at my fingers, they tingle.

 

For a moment, I feel powerful.

 

There's a strong urge to touch the image of myself, never mind how narcissistic that sounds, and I climb back onto the roots. I look upon myself, running my fingers through each curve that makes up my face, the clean slants that mark my sleeves, the hypnotic spiral that converges in the center towards a point of singularity.

 

Twelve circles form a larger one around the image of me, seemingly inconsequential until I come up close. I squint, bouncing on my tiptoes to get a better look...

 

...and I slip. Of course I slip.

 

As I fall, I pray for a grazed elbow or shin instead of a sprained ankle. Definitely not a fracture.

 

But my body seems to twist in slow motion, and space seems to warp around me, and its like I'm falling through honey or chocolate; my movements are muted and relaxed, like I'm floating on cotton candy.

 

The earth opens up, or it looks that way, and when I hit the floor it's like falling onto your bed, a comfortable snuggle on a blanket of soil.

 

I feel drained, spent, eyelids heavy. It's like the impact transfers itself from my body to my mind. Gazing above, I'm sheltered by the mural, and the sky seems to fade into the trees.

 

I lie in the embrace of the forest, a child of nature, watched over by forces beyond my understanding and comprehension. And as I melt into sleep, I dream of wonderful things, of golden castles and princesses in towers, of a universe sparkling with stars far, far away...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a side note, this chapter has my favourite song for the whole arc. I really struggled with whose scene I wanted to give it to but the dreamlike quality of Midori's POV, along with her sense of wonder and maturity made the choice easy for me in the end. The past few chapters have been a blast to write, and I hope you're enjoying things so far!


	12. Reverie 1.7.1 (Yuuko)

[♪] [NGAHHH!! - toby fox](https://tobyfox.bandcamp.com/track/ngahhh) [♪]

 

This is getting very silly very fast.

 

I stomp out of my room into the hallway, and then finally the living room. Making a ruckus is intentional, because if I can scare these pests, all the more the better.

 

"I know you're here! You all better show yourselves!"

  

No response. Not even a stirring of the wind to give themselves away.

 

This is ridiculous. I look like a crazy old kook talking to thin air and I might be one soon if not for-!

 

Breathe in... breathe out... That's right. I can't afford to tunnel my vision onto them. There are far more important things... but how can I focus on them when this is constantly nagging me?

 

Never mind. I'll settle this problem first. 

 

My eyes scour the room, looking for anything that doesn't fit. Ornaments and crockery on the coffee table; clocks and trinkets hanging from the wall; the appearance of entirely brand new couch, or some large piece of furniture blatantly in sight to mock me. The past few hours have been a game of Spot The Differences, without a reference image in mind to cross reference.

 

Straining your mental faculties in this way gets tiring, fast. I sigh, head to the kitchen for some orange juice to perk me up.

 

After grabbing the carton from the fridge, my hand brushes against an empty glass on the shelf, and-

 

_CLANG!_

 

The cup springs to life, morphing into shape and leaving a trail of entropy behind it. It's kind enough to circle back, its ethereal form preventing any of the glassware from actually shattering, but it gave me enough of a heart attack.

 

Now on the ground, the shapeshifter assumes its original form - that of a Kitsune, one of many others that roam this land. It's ghostly white and smooth, eyes formed into a cunning, crescent grin.

 

And to think there are three of these adorable abominations in my house.

 

Which I let in.

 

This one zips right out, and I scream after it, never mind the orange juice, I'm all fired up and ready to catch some bad foxes!

 

My socks prevent me from skidding, instead I slide and crash into a couch, my hair flopping over my face. After I clear my fringe, I stare around the room again. Still no sign of any of them.

 

I could ignore them, harmless as they are, except they're doing everything they can to pester me, these insufferable, mischievous, annoying, petulant little puerile-!

 

I have to calm down, I tell myself, but I'm still hyperventilating in rage, because how can I not? Even though I know being ticked off means they win, I can't help but feel the emotions surge through me.

 

Like some perverse form of invigoration to motivate me. That's right, turn this weakness into a strength.

 

And I will destroy them.

 

I can almost hear Natsuki's evil cackling at the back of my head. Whether it is in favour of my actions or not, it doesn't matter. There’s some noise upstairs and I feel the house shift, which I ignore. Mizore’s work, and I doubt the Kitsune want to be at the mercy of her renovations. They will still be here, especially if their primary goal is to annoy me.

 

That means the living room is for my taking.

 

I storm the room, poised in a battle stance as I hunch forward, limbs out like a crab’s. I hiss so loudly it’s like a boiler releasing steam, and that’s almost cathartic despite how unpleasant it sounds. 

 

The very first thing I do is flip a table. Literally. It comes down in a thunderous crash, and everything from then on is a domino of chaos.

 

One Kitsune gets startled enough to move about, and I lunge for the infernal thing, pouncing on a pile of books as it slips through my grasp. Another nearby Kitsune starts chittering in laughter, and I add the fuel to my undying flames.

 

It takes a full hour to banish one of them outside, after which the other two follow shortly. It takes another two to clean things up.

 

* * *

[♪] [Melody - Yuki Kajiura](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ZKa7_K9Jw0) [♪]  
  

“It’s no trouble,” Mizore assures me, voice hushed. “I enjoy doing it.”

 

“I still feel bad,” I reply, chuckling. “I’m too lazy to bother doing anything for Natsuki, even though she’s rolling in grist.”

 

No reply on the other side, and all I get is a thrumming on my new second floor as Mizore continues to toss around ideas for architecture, bringing matter into being and then dissolving them into nothing before trying again. 

 

“You know,” I continue. “I’m kinda relieved that at least it’s you guys I’m stuck with. That there’s at least you.”

 

Mizore shifts in her seat. Her silence is a question, a request for elaboration.

 

“I mean well, you’re sensible,” I say. "And that goes a long way in helping me keep my own head on my shoulders in a senseless time like this.”

 

“Oh. Okay.” Mizore seems stunned. “T-thank you.”

 

I chuckle at Mizore’s awkward stutter and modesty. “No, Mizore! Thank you!”

 

Silence again. It’s almost comforting, coming from her, knowing that with Natsuki it’s always noise, even her own brand of irksome silence - just another jab at me. That girl knows how to rile me up, and she enjoys every damn second of it.

 

Which reminds me of the last member of our party.

 

“Everything okay?” I ask, prodding. "You and Kasaki..?”

 

No response.

 

“I mean well yeah,” I continue, treading a delicate line. “I know she’s a jackass for leaving us and all and I know she’s your friend. Is it that you feel awkward around her, not knowing how to broach the subject of her leaving..? Or is it you both have distanced yourselves, and you have no idea how to bridge the gap?”

 

Shifting and the sound of tight breaths. Maybe I overdid it?

 

"Hey, if you need someone to talk to… I’ll be here for you, alright?” I tell Mizore, offering her my assistance. “I won’t be nosy, but I just want you to be okay, and if I can help, I will.”

 

Her reply is almost inaudible, but there is a grave sorrow in its pitch, the single word inflecting up. Then, I hear two more words, before she disconnects, and my house stops shifting as well.

 

Back to being alone.

 

I glance outside my window. Still black, the outside world engulfed in complete darkness. If I strain my neck a little, I can make out the glow of my seven gates hovering vertically above the house. It’s a tad bit disorienting - without a clock, I can never really tell the time. As for adventuring? 

 

There’s no point going out if there’s nothing I can see. 

 

When I check in on Natsuki, she’s not home. Probably out with her new oni friends or something. I could contact Nozomi, but we don’t really talk.

 

And there’s only the four of us, and it feels so…

 

_Lonely._

 

There’s a rush of sorts, like a chill in my blood that tingles down my spine to my toes when I think of the word. It’s as though the atmosphere’s responding to my feelings, and in my moment of vulnerability, it seeks to make me more so.

 

The land shudders as though a gust of winter wind blows through it, and materialising up to my doorstep are twin lanes of candles, arcing like a ribbon strewn across the floor. The small flames coil around the wax, shivering in the cold abyss of the outside, drawing me to the window. It’s hypnotising, the beautifully choreographed motions enticing and leaving me wanting for more.

 

Is this a path for me to walk on? Or is it-

 

So, this land _does_ react to my emotions.

 

Dallying’s never my style. I rush to the door, swing it wide open, and I get my answer pretty quickly.

 

Greeting me at the doorstep are three sprites of sorts, adorable animal ghosts that look like foxes. Upon seeing me they flutter about, excited and enthused. 

 

I guess the candle path led them here? 

 

One of them looks at me, expectant, a child of sorts, and my heart melts as I squat to address them at their level.

 

"Aww! Aren’t you three cute little things!”

 

I reach forward to pat them on the head, and they snuggle up to me. They feel like warm milk, but like jelly, maybe less solid. It’s a wonderful sensation, and maybe with these small distractions I can avoid thinking about my situation, maybe I’ll be less alone…

 

Another wave of emotion fills me up, compelling me towards company. Natsuki has her oni, Mizore has her… whatever it is she does. Nozomi has her gryphons, which well, is kinda sad, but if my land is littered with these adorable creatures, who am I to complain? And who am I to refuse them?

 

"You wanna come in?” I ask, and the three of them turn towards me, gazes intent. “Mm, of course you can come in! You can-"

 

I’m not finished with my cooing before the three breeze past me, and there’s a high pitched chattering ringing in my ears as they enter the house.

 

The three foxes turn back to look at me one last time, before zipping off in wildly different directions. It doesn’t take ten seconds for me to hear something dropping on the floor, and five more for another occurrence.

 

Whatever emotional high I had which nudged me towards this decision? It vanishes as my heart plummets, and I slam the door behind me. 

 

I’ve made a huge mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A silly little chapter to see what's up with the others.  
> Personally I find this a little weak, given that I find myself quite terrible with humour. But the show must go on, and any feedback is always appreciated!  
> Once again thanks for reading my self indulgent fic about music girls and their hijinks in a fantasy land.


	13. Reverie 1.8.1 (Mizore)

[♪] [Rain - Louie Zong](https://soundcloud.com/louie-zong/rain) [♪]

 

“Good night, Mizore.”

 

“Good night, Yuuko.”

 

Yuuko hangs up on the other end, and I’m left to dwell in front of my terminal again. Not that I dislike being alone, it is rather enjoyable, in fact. There’s a kind of solace and respite amidst the loneliness. When in isolation, we do crave for interaction, some sort of stimulation, but that gets draining, fast. Just enough is fine.

 

There is some sense of normalcy when the architecture of my house isn’t constantly shifting, as it did a few hours ago. Nozomi finds her own calm in activity, a bustling force that can’t be stopped. She wants to do everything she can, even if it's building another storey or two for me.

 

I enjoy building myself, if for different reasons. There is a kind of tranquility in designing a space and then bringing it into reality, placing one block after another, watching your friend’s house get higher and higher, all because of your work. It’s almost therapeutic.

 

Yuuko’s running about her house, flailing as she deals with her creatures. I politely move towards the upper floors, which are still under construction anyway. 

 

Cracking my knuckles, I set myself down to work. Yuuko doesn’t have much build grist - the game’s primary resource for construction. But I make do with what I can.

 

My mind wanders towards the pitter patter of the rain, the omnipresent downpour that soaks my land. A quick glance towards the coat hanger reminds me of my raincoat, still drying from my earlier exploration. It was enlightening, but I refused Nozomi’s guidance, so I didn’t go far from the house. 

 

One would think that perpetual drizzle bringing an atmosphere of gloom, a reflection of my introverted psyche. But I’m not an unhappy person, just a quiet one, and there’s a pleasant tranquility in it all.  

 

Much like the inhabitants of my land. Much like the waves that cradle the shore, the periodic rise and fall of the ocean’s chest in circular breaths.

 

They build, and they take away. They give, and then recede.

 

I cast imperfections into oblivion, imagining the rain washing away flaws to start again. Each design doesn’t have to be better than the last, just different, and after a while I get a feel for what I want. Grist recycles itself, and I try as many permutations as possible, attempting to balance economic value with stability with aesthetic. Maybe I don’t even really want to build anything, just revel in the process of doing so.

 

I… I like it.

 

Dragging the camera on the first floor into view, I can see that Yuuko's thrashing the first floor, trying to catch the persistent critters that plague her. I sympathise, but I’m not going to help her when it comes to dealing with the mess. It is entertaining, watching her one mind track as she ignores literally everything else as she dives into couches and wrestles with spirit-like beings on the floor.

 

Yuuko's a focused girl. Maybe sometimes a tad bit too focused.

 

But that call on virtues and vices isn’t one for me to make.

 

Just like the call that comes, except it isn’t a call. It’s hurried, almost intrusive, and I hear Nozomi through the computer before my mind catches on that it’s her. Like a burst of gale forced through your window. She’s somehow bypassed my need to pick up, some emergency distress function this game has, probably.

 

"Nozomi..?”

 

[♪] [Muddy Waters - LP](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ss8t7a8n0U4) [♪]

 

She can’t have possibly heard me, as I merely mouth her name, a sudden chill wracking my body as I steady myself to hear her voice again. It doesn’t get better, no matter how many times I hear it.

 

"Hey, Mizore.” Nozomi sounds nonchalant as ever, but this time there’s a gravity in her voice, the kind of subtle, implicit feeling you get when you know something’s up. "You don’t have to reply me, but please listen, okay? Whatever problems we might have, I’m asking you to put them aside for now because we have new developments that bring a whole lot more to the big picture."

 

It’s happening. Whatever it is.

 

"Relay this to Yuuko.” Nozomi deliberately slows down, making sure I hear each word. "I’ve already talked to Natsuki, and it’s not urgent, but damn if it isn’t important."

 

She’s not expecting me to reply, but I think I’m strong enough to grace her with one. I draw a breath, preparing to give her a word of affirmation.

 

"I’m with Asuka-senpai now.”

 

My words choke in my throat and I swallow them back, freezing up. I let Nozomi’s statement take its hold on me, the blood rushing to my knees and leaving me feeling empty. 

 

"We’re not the only four here, get it?”

 

I nod, mute. I’m just… blank. I don’t know how to… what to say...

 

"And… there’s four more. From our deductions, there are four more juniors, most likely from concert band as well."

 

"I…”

 

Nothing that comes from my mouth is more than an incomprehensible stammer.

 

“Just… promise me that you’ll tell Yuuko, okay?”

 

My head nods on its own, just a fraction, my lips parting and then sealing shut. “…ng…”

 

And then something swells within me, like pent up air wanting to be released, and pushes itself out of my throat.

 

"Nozomi..!" I manage to force out her name, before deciding how much of a mistake it is. I shake my head, bending over as though my stomach convulses with wave after wave of unbearable cramps, completely aware that Nozomi’s able to look at me. I don’t care. It hurts too much.

 

“Yeah, Mizore?”

 

Bravery builds up, then breaks down, the interval between each cycle shortening with my breaths. I want to tell her, I don’t want to tell her. Indecision makes its decision for me, and I struggle, stammer, fight, something, but I can’t do it… I want to do it… I’m bobbing on a dark ocean and I’m drowning, drowning...

 

“…nothing.”

 

That’s it. Only a whimper and then I close my computer, unable. Just unable.

 

Why am I so unreasonable, so selfish, so silly? If I could just have a bit more courage, to face up to reality… 

 

My face goes numb as I curl into bed. I can’t tell how much tears trickle down the side of my face, if there are tears at all. I can only think of the ocean like a lullaby, the pitter patter of rain, my chest one with the waves, up, down, up, down…

 

Drifting in a prison of my making.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update, because I don’t wanna post something so depressing on Valentine’s. Hope you like wallowing in misery!   
> The next update’s on Thursday, as per usual.


	14. Reverie 1.9.1 (Asuka)

[♪] [One Summer’s Day (Piano and Flute version) - Joe Hisaishi](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r5Nl6QZRg0c) [♪]

 

Summer nights are a lullaby of crickets, the chirping of fireflies amidst a sweltering furnace built by clouds on a starless sky.

 

Summer mornings are a parting of light, a serenade of palm leaves amongst weeds, the sound of reeds sweating it out through chapped lips.

 

Nozomi wakes before me, already in the courtyard by the artificial waterfall. She has a newly alchemised flute in hand, belting out a tune, forming an ensemble with invisible birds.

 

Her technique is sloppier than usual, but her voice is full of heart. I watch her like this for a while, observing her breathing, her phrasing, the thrills between her last two fingers. When she’s done, I give a smattering of applause and she acknowledges with a short bow, unsurprised.

 

“It was shallow,” she says. “Just fooling around.”

 

I lean my head against the doorframe. “Mm? That’s not an excuse, Kasaki-kun.”

 

“It isn’t,” she agrees with me.

 

“Why even bother playing at all if you aren’t going to do it properly?” I ask, genuinely curious.

 

Nozomi looks at me, almost disgusted. But she keeps her composure, posture perfect as she looks down without shifting her head.

 

“There are other reasons to play, Asuka-senpai."

 

I stretch away from the doorframe, kicking my legs up, ignoring her annoying insinuation. Now’s not the time for ideological differences anyway. I’ve always suspected - nah that’s putting it lightly - known that there’s friction between Nozomi and I. Maybe it’s her headstrong nature? The way we might both be suited for leadership but she seeks it out while I couldn’t care less? Alright, that's not exactly true. It's more that I put up a facade of indifference, not that it makes a difference to most people's perceptions.

 

But I respect her. She is a skilled flautist, and I know that the respect is paid back in kind.

 

“We have a long day ahead of us!” I declare, skipping about once I get to my feet. “Breakfast?”

 

Nozomi nods as she follows me to the kitchen, and I find some leftover oats and yoghurt for us. Chocolate is scarce, but I decide to share them with her anyway, a gesture of goodwill, and to celebrate having survived the night.

 

I’m not sure if I expected not to? Survive, that is. When dealing with the unknown, you can’t really take anything for granted.

 

And when I woke up, I almost assumed this to all be a dream. Very nearly did to, with the weather being analogous to Japan, and me still being comfortable in my own room. Too normal to be in an alternate universe, yet here we are.

 

We’ve only been here for a day, anyway. A lot more things could still happen.

 

Nozomi is a gracious guest, though quite stiff. She’s been on edge ever since she’s arrived, which she normally isn’t. The leadership burden kind of nonsense seems to be weighing hard on her, with a ridiculous land and everything that’s happened. It’s a downer, really.

 

So I decide to lighten up the mood. I bring her to my alchemiter after breakfast, sitting neatly in the corner of the courtyard. Rummaging around, I bring up my latest invention with a flourish, beaming with pride.

 

“Ta-da! With this, we can really go places now!”

 

The size and curvature of the instrument are dead giveaways, the silver sheen my trademark. The harness looks questionable, but the tensile strength and carabena should adhere to most safety standards, if they can be checked. Along with the streaks of fire along the sides for a flourish, and mechanical nonsense I can’t hope to understand, the whole thing looks pretty neat. Nozomi’s eyes widen as it dawns on her what this is.

 

"You… you built a euphonium-jetpack?"

 

"Hey, we can’t always pick and choose,” I shrug. "Better than your gryphon anyway, eh?"

 

"I pray it’s more dependable,” Nozomi skulks around, examining the contraption. “You fused it? Copied the components of the euphonium for the aesthetic I suppose, and then added what? Bits of your generator, exhaust pipes…”

 

“Don’t sweat the specifics,” I wave off. “I’ve tested it, and it’ll take us to where we need to go.” Using my index finger, I sketch an arc in the air, mimicking a path of flight. “Just like that. Pchoooo!"

 

Nozomi nods, before adding her two cents. "It’s a tad bit annoying when you’re acting like a child, senpai. I don’t even know why you keep that facade of yours."

 

“Really?” I wink, ignoring her remark altogether. But Nozomi’s not one for messing around in times of crisis, which I _guess_ this could be considered. Fine, work it is.

 

“So,” I say, gesturing her to return to the room as I sit down. “Let’s review all we have so far before we take any concrete actions.”

 

“We’ve established that we are able to travel to others’ lands through the epicycloids called ‘gates’ that hang above our houses,” Nozomi starts us off. “Each of us has seven, and the pattern in which these gates work we haven’t been able to discern the specifics of. But as I’ve managed to confirm with Natsuki, the seventh gate corroborates with the Denizen’s lair in every case.”

 

I acknowledge with a nod. “I’ve received similar information from the creatures of my land. Who’s your Denizen?"

 

“Haven’t bothered figuring it out.” Nozomi crosses her arms. “Remember that the only creatures of my land are unintelligibly squabbling chicken-dogs. Yours?"

 

Placing my finger to my pursed lips, I lean towards Nozomi. “That’s a secret.”

 

“Suit yourself,” Nozomi shrugs. "But anyway the seventh gate is not to be touched, even if we can reach it. Which brings me to my next point - the building. We’re meant to reach the gates through the building of our houses, which I believe most of us have started on. The build grist and various resources can be obtained by… why am I reviewing things we both already know?”

 

“It’s always a good recap,” I grin, teasing. “But you’re right. However, I believe that building serves another purpose other than ascending vertically, because flight seems like a mechanic too simple in order to subvert such a long drawn out process. In the meantime, we should continue what we’ve been doing.”

 

Nozomi agrees with me. “It’s much more stable that whatever flying apparatuses we come up with anyway.”

 

“We’re digressing,” I remind her. “Back to the issue at hand, being the implications of multiple sessions in this game. We have yours, mine, and one more which should be our juniors’.”

 

“None on my side are able or willing to pop through their gates to figure the mechanics out, so I guess we’ll have to do it after this,” Nozomi says. "I recommend sketching out the chain of server-client relationships for each session so that things become clearer. In the meantime, I’ll keep my people in the loop, and have them inform me on any updates. How about your side? Any developments they’ve managed to find after you broke the news to them?”

 

Ah, them. I take a deep breath, and my hesitation gives myself away as Nozomi’s face twists into an expression of horror.

 

"You didn’t tell them?!"

 

"Not yet!” I raise my hands in my defence. "I haven’t really gotten round to it. Since you popped by yesterday I haven’t managed to talk to them much.”

 

“But this is the most important thing that’s happened! Knowing that-!” Nozomi groans, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Asuka, I can’t tell if you’re messing with me or you simply don’t care.”

 

I do what I can to remedy the situation. “I’ll get to it before we leave, promise. And I suppose I’ll have to start taking things more seriously.”

 

Nozomi flashes me a dirty look. “You can’t possibly mean what you’re saying.”

 

“I’m entirely sincere,” I reply, standing up and walking over so that I’m facing Nozomi’s back. “But I believe you should loosen up as well. It’s not nice seeing you so stressed out like this.”

 

My hands proceed to rub the nape of Nozomi’s neck, kneading downwards to her shoulders in an attempt at a massage. Surprisingly she doesn’t resist, the tension leaving her as she slumps into my fingers like putty, letting out a sigh.

 

“Fine, I guess you’re right,” Nozomi says. "Land of Summer and Music eh? It seems like a nice place. Maybe you can show me around some time.”

 

Then she straightens up, removing my hands. She stretches her back, swings her shoulders, and gives a cry that sounds like half a yawn. “But not now. At least not until we have the twelve of us. Then, we can chill together.”

 

I almost give her a genuine smile. The thought is sweet, but I’m not inclined towards moments of tenderness. 

 

Stepping out of the house, I look towards my gates. They tower towards the sun, a skeleton of a skyscraper leading towards an unknown destination, that we can only see as upwards. I think of Haruka, of Kaori, of the others I have yet to visit, a pang of guilt hitting me. I haven’t been building for Kaori, and while Haruka hasn’t been building for me either, she has a valid reason. And then there’s…

 

Wait.

 

The connections become clearer, relationships and bonds. The nature of our session, of our game, and prior information. A jolt shakes me and I feel like my mind has opened up.

 

Certain things seem to snap into place. Possibilities and outcomes, and it’s like wiping a fogged pair of glasses to form a startlingly clear picture. I see it. I see things.

 

I know what needs to be done next.

 

"Come," I grin, extending my hand to Nozomi. "We have work to do."

 

She responds with an earnest smile of her own. But instead of taking my hand, she gives me a high five instead, slapping downwards before taking the lead.

 

Kids these days...

 

I strap on my hilarious jet pack, and get ready to take off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get to finally meet your best girl!
> 
> Tbh I've never really been an Asuka fan, even though she is a pretty fascinating and well written character (essentially the driving force of S2).  
> Heads up, we'll be with Kumiko for the remainder of the arc after this.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	15. Reverie 1.4.2 (Kumiko)

[♪] [Daydream - Kajiura Yuki](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gG4dqaaU3Zw) [♪]

 

I'm in love.

 

_“Reina.”_

 

I’m about to be pulled in, and in that moment, I feel like becoming her victim. It wouldn’t be that bad, would it? Painless, thoughtless; enthralled, enraptured. Just giving in, giving myself up.

 

Then the spell breaks, and Kousa- I mean  _Reina,_ can tell the moment when it happens. Like a string snapping, and although I don’t pull back or flinch, she does. Only then do I allow myself to show my unmasked embarrassment, afraid that I might’ve offended her after such an intimate moment of mutual attraction.

 

She gives me a long hard look, a prosecutor assessing the guilty, but then she breaks out into giggles, her laughter almost contagious as she twirls around in that pretty white dress. The edges flutter upwards like a jellyfish, which doesn't sound graceful, no... it looks like a jellyfish, but the image it evokes is an undulating cloud, and Reina presses her hands between her legs as she falls backwards onto a bench, and her dress falls down around her like trickling snow.

 

“You sure have a horrible personality, Kumiko."

 

What, me? I can't really deny that, and I ball up my fists, taking the... insult? Or neutral statement, I don't really know. Bwu...

 

Reina leans forward, chin resting in one palm as she gazes at me. "But that’s what makes you such a fascinating creature, doesn't it?"  


"Ehh..." I start, not knowing how to reply. "T...thanks?"

But Reina doesn’t shy away, her keen stare dissecting me and I feel like my insides are on display for her.

  
“You can’t stand conflict,” she notes, without much emotion. “Even though you don't particularly care for it. You shield yourself behind an average, good girl guise to protect yourself… from what, exactly? Why do you settle for mediocrity when you could be so much more?”

 

“Not all of us want to stand out, Reina,” I tell her. “Just because I understand you, doesn’t mean I want to be-"

  
"But you aren't normal.”

Reina straightens up now, hands on her lap and her posture’s that of a stately princess. "You're like me, Kumiko."

Up till now, I’ve been in a rather awkward position having to look at Reina. I’m turned around on the steps, body twisted at an uncomfortable angle in order to face Reina on her bench. So in order to get up, I need to get on fours towards Reina, half-crawling and half standing. Except Reina kicks off her shoes, sticking out a pointed foot, and presses against my shoulder, keeping me on my knees.

  
"Yes, I've decided that for you,” she replies, confident. “And if you insist on keeping your pathetic disguise-“

Now, she hooks me in with the tip of her toes, tucked into the base of my chin, drawing me in and tilting my head upwards. And then, Reina leans in so that here face is dangerously close to mine, and I can feel her steady breaths on my flushed cheeks.

"Then I'll forcefully peel off that mask of yours."

Scary… 

"Who’s the real pervert here?"

Reina doesn’t break posture, maintaining her piercing eye contact with me. It sells the whole ridiculous illusion, the pretentiousness and dramatic gestures that much more believable when she herself has the utmost faith in it. She lets a tiny grin form on her lips like a careless slip, except it’s anything but. It’s the kind of charming condescension when an adult deals with a petulant child, and just like that, I’m shot down, and all the more beguiled by her beauty.

Ahh… I’m caught again, suspended. No, it’d be too easy for her...

"Maybe I’m playing hard to get for your benefit,” I stammer out, shakily holding my position. "If I just willingly acquiesce to you, I won’t be so alluring anymore, will I?"

  
Reina lowers her foot, then crossing that leg over the other. "Perhaps. You have a good point there.”

I take my cue to finally stand, dusting the dirt off my palms on my shorts. It’s been nice, but if Reina’s only brought me out on a whim… we have to head back eventually. Once the novelty wears off, at least.

The land almost seems to react to my uncertainty. To cloud things further, a bout of smoke whips up, catching even Reina by surprise. Wind carries the fog upwards, obscuring our view and sending us into a coughing fit. I myself grapple through the blurry surroundings, not sure which direction I’m going in.

  
“Ack… Rei-… Urg… Reina..?”

No response. There might’ve been one, but the mist seems to be making noises of its own, purring whistles as though the the wind itself were leaves that could rustle.

 

The smoke becomes thicker, the grey air pooling into darker shades, and I bunch up my oversized sleeves to cover up my nose and mouth. Reina’s nowhere to be found, and in my wanting to reunite with her, I resist the urge to drop to the ground, as it’s easier to be found while standing.

This continues for a good two minutes before I realise that I’m going to choke if this smoke storm doesn’t let up. I crouch, tucking in my head to face downwards, duck walking into the unknown with one hand out to feel for anything. Because I don’t want to fall off the cliff, I shuffle slowly, each step careful, taking care to change directions every now and then.

My eyes are watering, everything’s uncomfortable, my chest on fire. But then as quickly as the smoke arrived, it dissipates, as though just passing through, transient.

It doesn’t fully let up, though, the surroundings looking like polluted streets in heavily industrialised areas. But vision's restored to me, and I can spot Reina's silhouette just a few paces from me.

"Reina..!"

I walk towards her, a skip in my step, wanting to hold onto someone after the isolation of smoke. I hope Reina’s okay, she was awfully quiet after all that, and she’s unmoving in her white dress, just standing there.

“Is everything okay? That was pretty dangerous just now, huh? I-"

 

Wait.

 

Even with the smoke, Reina’s features are blurry. Way too… unfocused. Almost like a distortion, a mirage, sporting a faceless visage. Whoever… whatever’s in front of me has the shape of Reina, but...

 

That… that’s not Reina.

 

Horror doesn’t grip me soon enough. The thing that’s not Reina steps forward, and pushes me.

 

I fall backwards, and I find that the ground doesn’t catch me.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no.


	16. Reverie 1.4.3 (Kumiko)

 

[♪] [Kakamora - Mark Mancina](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OM5PYUKtR0c) [♪]

 

_“REINA!”_

 

Legs dangling, wind and smoke tangled in my hair. I know what’s coming next. I’m going to dash my body on the rocks, my spine snapping and skull crumbling, and I’ll die. I’ve been pushed off a cliff, and-

 

Smoke clears above me, an entire column of it such that fresh air appears like a beam of light descending on me, blooming all about. I’m swept away horizontally by a handful of gust, the same hand that ‘catches’ me so that I don’t slam into the cliffside, and I roll on solid ground, alive.

 

I catch my breath, which I swallow like blocks of hard ice. It burns my lungs as the adrenaline surges throughout my body, and I feel my ears tingling with the rush of blood to it.

 

Wait, it’s not just that. I can hear someone. Something.

 

“Kumiko!”

 

My name.

 

Reina.

 

But there’s another cry, this one corrupted and twisted, an inhuman scream and I drop to my knees as I feel the crunch just inches above me, intuition saving me. Reina’s distorted clone hovers above me, menacing, like a ghoul of sorts. I welp, tuck my knees to my chest as I roll to the side, just in time to avoid a kick to the stomach.

 

Then as I scramble to my feet, I scream at my legs to run run run run RUN-

 

Overhead, I can hear other voices, other noises. I stumble around the corner, almost throwing myself into the mountain face as my shoulder absorbs the impact. The momentum carries me further along the path, putting distance between my aggressor and I but I fall, and it’s just futile. Useless.

 

_“KUMIKO!”_

 

Wha-? From above-

 

As graceful as a landing can be, Reina’s suddenly in front of me - the _real_ Reina, facing off against her distorted reflection. 

 

Her dress seems to blend with the smoke around her, billowing in fierce ripples as she makes her stand. She grips her trumpet in her master hand like a club waiting to cave someone's head in.

 

Without warning, she puts her trumpet to her lips, and a resounding blare blasts from the funnel, air rocketing out and slamming into the other Reina like a moving wall, creating distance between them.

 

The stunt buys us precious seconds, and Reina uses them to whip around, her face scrunched up in righteous fury.

 

"What are you waiting for? _**GO!**_ "

 

Oh. She's talking to me.

 

I manage to get myself up, but not before witnessing the image of myself pouncing onto her from above. My belated reaction causes even more hesitation, until I realize that Reina has things handled more than me. I'm just going to be a burden, so I better get away with all I can.

 

She's always been the more athletic one, better at running with her impressive lung capacity. Even with the tables turned, I can't find the strength within me to sprint, my heart pounding like the fists of a drummer hammering away.

 

I want to make my way back to the house, but I can't find my way, swiping away the smoke to no avail. With no direction, I end up hugging the face of the hill, hoping to find refuge.

 

A fragment of something whizzes past me at high speed, some form of projectile. I duck, covering my chest with one arm and my eyes with the other. Just in time too, as I feel a slash on the upper arm aimed for my cheek. The cut isn’t deep, but if I wasn’t careful, it could cause permanent damage to my sight.

 

The third comes flying, and this time it sticks. A glass shard when I look at it, and it’s clear enough that I can see my eye staring back at me. A perfect reflection.

 

No time to think of what to do. I cover my vital parts, and charge on ahead. Better to face uncertainty than deal with a confirmed two creatures after me.

 

I don’t dash for more than ten seconds when I’m in the clear, the smoke much thinner here. That’s the awesome thing. But, the not so awesome thing is that I’m faced with my own reflection.

 

She’s far enough away that I can’t make out the details or lack thereof on her face, but the silhouette is distinct enough that I know she’s me.

 

My land is riddled with mirrors. It makes sense that this might be a false alarm, perhaps an actual reflection rather than a distortion.

 

Raising my right arm, I find my ‘clone’ doing the same.

 

No no no, I can’t think so simplistically. What if she’s just copying you? And if she’s not the same one from before - which she probably isn’t, then what’s creating them?

 

I pace towards the reflection, assuming a defensive stance, and the reflection walks towards me, doubling the overall rate at which we meet. My arms cover my face, which means I can’t discern the reflection as well. That sucks.

 

A shard zips past me from my right, and I flinch backwards, only for the reflection to break character and lunge towards me.

 

Faceless, emotionless, machine-like.

 

She punches out, and I jump away, dodging by a wide enough margin. Good enough that I do, because she traps broken glass in her fist, and sends them out like a shotgun, letting go to expel them.

 

The bad thing is that I trip on myself, legs crossed and I go down like a sucker.

 

Distortion pounces on me, pinning one arm to the ground.

 

I wrestle back, moving my head to dodge another punch, kicking with my legs to try to get her off. It doesn’t work. With a burst of energy, I thrust my torso towards her, giving enough room to wrap my legs around her and immobilise her in some stupid way.

 

My fist flails, more a swat than a blow, but it passes _right through her head._

 

My momentum carries me to twist my body, which somehow allows me to dodge another blow. I might’ve pulled a muscle from straining too hard.

 

But I can’t give up now. I steel my core muscles to rotate back, tell myself that I can utilise whatever elastic property of skin to snap back and lash out at my aggressor. I only make it halfway back when she punches me in the gut.

 

The wind gets knocked out of my stomach, and I retch bile that isn’t there, tears causing my vision to go blurry. It’s pain in a visceral way I haven’t had the displeasure of experiencing, and boy does this put into contrast the other types of non-physical hurt. There’s a metallic taste in my mouth, and I can feel the gnawing wound feel like it’s about to open up further, swallowing me and feeding on my pain. 

 

Adrenaline doesn’t seem to come fast enough, because if my pain’s being numbed I can’t imagine what it’d be like _without._

Somehow, the distortion doesn’t attack any further. It hovers above me, the locks of hair touching my cheeks as it seems content in observing my suffering. 

 

I grit my teeth, bracing for an attack that doesn’t come. 

 

And then the distortion’s gone, dissipated into the smoke and wind. I feel the literal weight being lifted off me, and open my eyes to see what’s happened.

 

Reina stands above me, battered and bruised, panting with her hands on her trumpet. She looks as though she just… blew my distortion away.

 

Which kinda makes sense? With all the smoke and mirrors around, I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what they’re made out of. Ethereal matter to make them nigh invincible through conventional means, and a mirror so…

 

Oh.

 

They are only reacting to our actions… no. Our intentions, perhaps? Like some vicious feedback loop, paranoia turning into hostility turning into violence.

 

“Can you stand?” Reina asks, and offers me a hand for support.

 

I try to sit up, but my abs scream for even trying. Instead I roll over flat on my tummy, then push myself up onto my hands and knees, before grabbing Reina. Everything hurts, I’m a bit shaky, but somehow I’m alright.

 

“R… Reina, are you okay..? I’m so… s-s-sorry I can’t really do much. Where did you learn to fight l-like that?”

 

I’m stammering, which would normally make me sound silly but I’m too tired and beaten up to bother. Reina should understand.

 

“I’ll explain… later,” Reina replies, and there’s also a tremolo in her voice, her breath not yet returned to her. “We… we need to get out of here, back to your place. I should… should’ve never taken you out without first knowing-“

 

She stops mid-sentence, and it takes me precious belated seconds to figure out why. Her grip on my arm stiffens, and she immediately resumes a defensive position, as I look in her line of sight.

 

No need for me to, when we’re literally surrounded.

 

Tens or dozens of different Kumikos and Reinas stare back at us, forming a circle trapping us. It’s eerie, disturbing in a way I can’t quite place. Even if I wasn’t bleeding out, I think I might’ve come close to fainting from sheer terror.

 

“We need to make a break for your house,” Reina says. "I’ll clear a path. Collect yourself, then on three, be prepared to run harder than you’ve ever run-"

 

"W… wait! Reina! They’re reflections, so I believe they’re just following what we do. If we run towards them, they’re bound to attack us, and defending will only make things worse…"

 

Reina snaps back, and I can almost feel the animosity rising off the distortions. "Then what do you expect us to do?"

 

"Maybe… maybe we can just slowly walk towards them, arms raised? Mock surrender?"

 

"Agh… you’re no good, Kumiko. If they’re meant to symbolise our mental state, then why on earth are there so many of them closing in on us?"

 

My mind draws a blank, struggling to come up with an answer.

 

“We’re going,” Reina tells me, determined. 

 

I gulp down hard, too tired to argue. Squeezing her arm, I give my unwilling consent.

 

“Ready? One… Two…”

 

Almost like a miracle, the sky opens up, a patch of light casting itself through the clouds as we hear the noise of loud engines, coupled with a deep bass sound like the baritones at the back of the choir singing their hallelujahs, and three figures appear, descending as fast as they appear.

 

“Hey!” comes laughter I could’ve never expected, but remember clearly. “Grab on!”

 

The identity of the person who hoists me upwards doesn’t even register until we’re up high, the gale causing strands of hair to obscure my vision.

 

But those pair of red half-rimmed glasses, those eyes a blue brighter than the morningstar, that smile more cunning than a wily fox, and I know who it is, even if I can’t believe it.

 

“…ah! A.. Asuka… sen…pai?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's coming together.


	17. Reverie 1.4.4 (Kumiko)

[♪] [Resuscitated Hope (Instrumental) - Lisa Komine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pDlZW6TPxNs) [♪]

 

Higher and higher, we travel out of the smoke’s reach through peerless clouds. We hang around the lower areas of the atmosphere, or whatever substitute there is for one, hovering just above the fourth gate if we’re talking relative distance.

 

Asuka’s having fun, too much fun in her silly jetpack, making barrel rolls and loop-de-loops like it’s no one’s business that she has a passenger. If my face looked dead before, now it's an unamused bust rotting in purgatory.

 

“While I’m grateful, I really don’t appreciate your nonsense right now, senpai,” I say, and she pouts while looking down at me, before jerking me into a more secure position.

 

Then she starts babbling on, her usual enthusiastic spiel that’s a tad bit overdone, annoying enough that it has to be intentional, and I block her out, instead focusing on my breathing. The air’s much cleaner up here, and despite my injuries, I feel much better than being down there.

 

As I adjust my eyes to look at Asuka’s accompanying entourage, I see another familiar face that wells me up with indescribable joy and relief.

 

“Aoi-chan!” I cry out, extending my arm as though I could grasp her, even as she’s far out of reach.

 

The third year gives me a timid wave, her blue barrettes keeping those twin braids of hair in place as she flies behind us. Asuka’s one thing, but if she’s here as well…

 

There’s an unknown girl carrying Reina, flying between Aoi and Asuka. If I have to estimate, she’s around my height but more sturdily built like a woman, developed and filled out in all the right areas. She looks mature enough to be a third year, sporting a slick ponytail that trails behind her at her speed.

 

The girl flashes me a grin in assurance, after catching me looking at her, and Reina does the same with a thumbs up. I wave back to acknowledge, and although we are safe now, Reina doesn’t look too happy.

 

“…so well, we came in and decided to whoop some ass, but after seeing that freakish crowd, well… no thanks! But we saved you two anyway, and… you aren’t listening, are you?”

 

“Mm?” I reply, noncommittal, and Asuka gives me a haughty ‘tsk’, before keeping quiet and staring straight ahead. She’s way more perceptive than people give her credit for, and I can trust her to read the mood, even if she’s insufferable with her head up her ass.

 

The rest of the flight carries on in peace, the trio making detours here and there to find my house amidst the sea of fog. For one, I don’t really worry or care, leaving the work up to them, allowing me to enjoy the view, or lack thereof.

 

I can see the little hilltop Reina brought me up to, the glass structures reflecting specks of light back at us. Besides that hill, there’s only one other prominent feature of the land, which is another mountain of sorts..? Eh, I don’t have the vocabulary to describe it - it’s a collection of dull rocks and land shaped like a conical flask. Heavy on the bottom, plateauing at the top with a spiral path leading on the outer edges to the top.

 

This mountain is taller than the earlier hill, most of it extending upwards to the sky, and while there seems to be some rocks on top, what catches my attention is this giant obelisk of sorts, at least another ten metres in height, a stone figure like an angel with outstretched arms, yet… definitely not humanoid. I can’t quite imagine what it is.

 

Asuka catches me staring at it, and smiles to herself.

 

“Hmm, well that looks like something I have back at my land, although the big statue’s different.” She seems to want to check it out, but then steers away, deciding that it isn’t worth it. “I don’t have one, and that’s mystery just itching to be explored."

 

The contradiction of her actions and words aren’t lost on me.

 

We finally manage to find the house, with Reina and her pilot taking the lead, Reina ostensibly the navigator. It seems that the winds favour her, and they part the smoke to reveal my modest apartment space.

 

I’ve left the door unlocked, and we stumble in, safety finally assured.

 

Ahh… I can finally relax after all that nonsense.

 

Then Asuka places her arm around my shoulder, and I groan. No rest for the weary.

 

"Kasaki Nozomi,” Asuka introduces, gesturing to the unfamiliar girl. “Used to be a first… ah I mean well, now second year flautist from concert band.”

 

Nozomi gives a salute, before extending her hand for me to shake. She seems pleasant enough, confident without Asuka’s pomp. More presidential material than either Asuka or Haruka. A typical leadery type.

 

But through Asuka’s insidious beaming, the meaning behind her unsaid words are clear. Nozomi’s a second year. Second years have had a tumultuous history in concert band. I didn’t know who Nozomi was.

 

_She quit._

 

"Nice to meet you both,” Nozomi grins, either oblivious or ignoring Asuka’s taunts. "Kousaka-san, I’ve heard of you. And you are..?”

 

It takes me another second to realise she’s addressing me. My reaction time becomes even sloppier with fatigue.

 

"You can just call me Kumiko,” I smile, back slumped against the wall.

 

"Hey no fair!” Asuka pouts, child like. "Oumae-chan! Why don’t you let me call you by your first name?"

 

"Because you’re noisy."

 

I regret the words the moment they leave me. There I go again… all big mouthed. I almost forgot that I’m not alone with Asuka, and know that the disrespect would be construed as poor manners. And I had been doing so well...

 

“That’s not wrong,” Asuka straightens up. "I apologise.”

 

"N-n-no… no,” I splutter, stumbling over my words. "I'm sorry… Asuka-senpai. That was uncalled for, from me.”

 

Aoi rubs her forearm, awkward and feeling as though she had intruded on something. Nozomi eyes us with curiosity, but otherwise says nothing. Elsewhere in the background Reina tries to hide a smirk. Horrible girl.

 

Well, at least I don’t think my screwup was that big.

 

“Anyway, I’m sure our first year darlings want to know exactly what’s going on, so let’s get to it, shall we? We should get everyone online. All twelve of us. This is important enough to call for a session meeting, so we can get caught up on everything, and discuss about how to move on from here."

 

Asuka asserts herself, or maybe she just wants to get the job done. I can never figure her out, never understand when she’s serious or playful, never see through the multiple masks she wears.

 

I can empathise with Reina, the kind of obsessive itch one gets trying to understand the unknowable. She an enigma far beyond me

 

But now’s not the time for such trifles, so I continue being the good girl I am, and fire up my laptop.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> insufferable.
> 
> asuka-kumiko banters are amazing and hard to write, bc of how complex their relationship is, with all the passive aggressive nonsense that can put kumirei flirting to shame. no wonder we have a canon endgame asukumi (i'm kidding. not a fan of asukumi).
> 
> also, the last girl appears! and we have our full cast of twelve.


	18. Reverie 1.4.5 (Kumiko)

[♪] [Get Up - Toby Fox](https://homestuck.bandcamp.com/track/get-up) [♪]

 

Midori doesn’t respond for hours, and we take turns being on shift, calling her in fifteen-minute intervals and keeping watch on the outside, just in case the distortions decide to terrorise us.

 

Hazuki’s missing in action either, and I scrutinise Midori’s last messages to figure out exactly what happened to the both of them. The knot of anxiety in my stomach tightens with each passing moment, praying that the worst hasn’t befallen them, that they’re alright.

 

As for the seniors, they’ve decided that it’s important enough to have everyone on board before we proceed, or at least being able to ascertain the status of the other two.

 

It’s the wee hours of the morning - the third day now - when Midori comes back online, panicked and apologising profusely.

 

“I’m so, so, so sorry! I can’t believe I just slept for so long, and Hazuki..!”

 

She doesn’t even seem affected by the seniors’ presence. What’s important is Hazuki.

 

It takes Midori another ten minutes to run back home - I remember her small frame and terrible stamina, sympathy pouring out of me in spades - as she’s the only one that can check on Hazuki’s condition via her terminal. To her and everyone’s relief and bewilderment, Hazuki’s back in her house, safe and asleep, but sprawled over her living room floor. 

 

“Now with that settled,” Asuka exhales, clapping her hands together to wake the drowsy nappers. “Let’s get to things proper, shall we?”

 

I rub my eyes, as my shift with Nozomi is about to end and we were supposed to sleep, but no matter. It’d been mostly spent in silence, and noise did a good job of jolting me awake.

 

The calls to the others started going through, and one by one, the second and third years come online.

 

Starting from the top - President Ogasawara Haruka, and Trumpet Section Leader Nakaseko Kaori. The two had opted to stay together, now residing at Haruka’s abode.

 

The other three second years were a sight for sore eyes, especially Natsuki. There’s Kaori’s number one fangirl Yuuko, and another senpai I’m unfamiliar with but have seen around. Reina tells me that she’s our lone oboist, Yoroizuka Mizore. She’s a small girl shying behind a curtain of hair, with bangs touching her eyebrows and no visible ending point to the tail ends on screen. The three of them are separated on their own lands.

 

Midori listens with rapt attention, keeping tabs on the sleeping Hazuki. We’re all together now.

 

And so Asuka begins her brief.

 

Many gaps fill themselves, and I rearrange all the facts and speculation to their respective corners, struggling to keep up. In summary: we all decided to play a world building game of our own, SBURB, which is this hot new game or something, requiring at least two players as it’s based off localised, multiplayer connections. The catalysts for each group are Asuka, Nozomi and Midori respectively, but somehow, despite our separate cyclical connections, the game had strung us together to form a unified session where we can play together.

 

That’s where the gates come in. There are seven hovering above each house, acting as portals to others’ lands. The first three lead through your connection cycle, with you going back one step to your server player, and then your server player’s server player. The next three bring you up one year (or for the third years’, back to the first years) and the cycle continues. The last gate, brings you straight to your land’s Denizen, a ‘boss monster’ of sorts. Asuka, Aoi and Nozomi had been experimenting with gate mechanics before arriving to save me, figuring out how they work.

 

All the third years seem to be aware of their Denizens, Natsuki having discussed hers, and Hazuki having apparently _met_ hers already. That’s the apparent cause of her unconscious state, but the fact that she’s safe means that her Denizen meant her no harm for the time being.

 

Then there’s the whole building and alchemy nonsense I couldn’t understand much of, but essential boils down to: get resources, make stuff.

 

Everything else seems to be land specific, from the conditions to the different inhabitants - some friendly, some hostile, some neutral (but annoying, as Nozomi doesn’t hesitate to point out). I’ve apparently had the shitty draw of the stick with the only known hostile elements.

 

Then again, it can be argued that the distortions were only hostile because Reina and I were.

 

But that being said and done, the ‘big reveal’ was that we’re all in this together, that our circles had just expanded and that we could do with helping each other and staying interconnected. There’s still no discernible ‘endgame’ state in sight, or any sign of how we might be able to return to Japan, if that’s even an option. For now, the only things we seem to be required to do, is to survive, and build upwards.

 

“Thank you for your efforts, Asuka, Aoi.”

 

Kaori-senpai decides to speak up when we’re wrapping up, the President seated timidly behind her. Then like a belated thought, she faces in the direction of the second years. “You too, Kasaki-san. Along with Natsuki and Yuuko-chan. For all your hard work.”

 

Despite her fatigue, Yuuko perks up at the compliment, very clearly flattered at the pleasantries.

 

“Well,” Haruka voices, the mellow, matured tone barely heard above the riffraff. “I believe we should move Oumae-san as soon as possible from her…” She’s having difficulty voicing her thoughts, before settling on a word. “Her… _country,_ given the circumstances. It’s too dangerous for her to handle, even with an ability user or two to guide her.”

 

Ability user? That’s been something conveniently left out of the review.

 

Asuka casts a disapproving, sidelong glance, but it is Aoi who takes charge now. “I agree. At least until we have more resources to deal with the threat. Plus it’s not going to be healthy staying cooped up in your house, you know.”

 

I realise she’s addressing me in her latter statement, and give a quick nod. Well, Aoi-chan has always been caring.

 

“Thanks,” I manage to mumble, still too tired.

 

Reina raises her hand, has been for some time now, patient and waiting for enough people to notice her. When she gets the attention she wants, she speaks up.

 

“I volunteer to take Kumiko in. No objections, there?”

 

“None at all,” Midori yawns, before quickly adding. “But both of you are welcome to Hazuki’s or mine. They are as non-threatening as you believe.”

 

Asuka unfolds her crossed arms, as though defeated. “Sure,” she smiles unconvincingly. “That’s cool.”

 

Reina grips my hand, and for the first time I feel her porcelain skin, normally unblemished and smooth but roughed up by our misadventures today. She traces my knuckle line before moving towards the softer, meaty areas as though mapping the lines like constellations in the sky. 

 

“But we should sleep first,” Aoi stretches out, giving me a wink. “It’s safe in here anyway, right?”

 

Nozomi nods, before finding a spot next to the couch. “Kumiko, is there a difference between day and night here?”

 

“Eh,” I start, having to plough through my memory. “I think so. Not much, I guess, just the shade of grey outside.”

 

Nozomi gives me a confused grin at my terribly contradictory statement. “I’ll take that as a not really, then. I guess I’ll allow myself to sleep in today if the light won’t disturb me. You won’t believe how bright Asuka-senpai’s land is.”

 

“Well, for a land of summer, that’s alright,” Aoi says, and there’s a somber, pensive look in her eyes. She yawns, turns away and nestles into the cushions on the couch.

 

The others, sensing that the meeting’s pretty much over, says their goodbyes before unplugging themselves. Soon, it’s just the quiet breathing of the five of us.

 

My hand’s still in Reina’s, and I have to tug at her before I can move. She’s not willing to let go, so she follows me into my room, where my bed’s waiting for me. We leave Asuka-senpai to her own arrangements.

 

“You won’t mind, right?”

 

“Nope,” I blush, having never slept with anyone else before. “I can turn on the conditioning, since it’s going to be a bit warm under the covers with us both I guess.”

 

“That’ll do,” Reina replies, and when I turn around to face her, she looks just like another girl, all the intimidating aura and flair gone, and it’s like we’re nine all over again, eager young girls waiting for a sleepover.

 

She changes out into more comfortable clothes, the ice-queen facade no longer needed within the four bedroom walls. Her ponytail falls, and she invites me into bed, beside her.

 

“Your tank’s sticky,” she tells me as I sleep with my back facing hers, and I’m reminded that I forgot to shower. Gross, but I’m just way too sleepy to bother today. 

 

“Take it off,” she continues, and I’m too dazed to properly argue, so I comply. The blanket wraps me up in a cocoon, and I can’t really face Reina now, embarrassed enough.

 

"You can take off your bra, I won’t look,” she says, as though reading my mind. I’m stuck in some weird valley where it might’ve seemed inappropriate to go full topless with her, but on the other hand I’d always slept with my chest liberated, and the straps bite into my skin at awkward angles. “You’d be surprised how comfortable it is, sleeping without anything on between you and the sheets. You should try it someday.”

 

I hesitate more now, but eventually just do it, what the heck, and find that Reina’s right. It is infinitely more cosy, and my body sighs beneath me, grateful for the reprieve. Somehow, I don’t feel as self-conscious anymore.

 

When I turn around, Reina’s already fast asleep, her fringe glossing over her eyes, her body rising and falling with each breath.

 

I move closer to her, snuggling up, and finally let sleep claim me, drifting off into a dreamless respite.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for all the heavy handed exposition, but I just wanted to bring everything up all at once in a single chapter for the last time, to establish the ‘mysteries’ the characters have had to unravel, with the information now no longer being unequal with all twelve (besides Hazuki but she’ll obviously be filled in when she awakes) being on the same page. The plot can progress further without all this dallying around and rounding up characters.


	19. Reverie 1.4.6 (Kumiko)

[♪] [Halo Theme - Lindsey Stirling and William Joseph](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jLnL63cXmD8) [♪]

 

The wind hums like a male choir, a calm storm whispering in a foreign language I can understand - it’s communicating something reverent, conveying the sheer scope of what I’m seeing, auditory complementation to the grandness of the land.

 

Everything here points _up_ , and it’s easy to be lost in awe amidst the spiralling obelisks and monoliths.

 

“This is mine,” Reina says, her voice full of pride. “The Land of Spirals and Diamonds.”

 

Oh yeah, the other thing. Everything here glimmers like gold, except with new context it’s more precious than gold, everything carved from diamond, everything from the same foundation as organic life. Carbon, carbon and more carbon, resolute and robust. I feel so small, like nothing but a speck. It’s overwhelming.

 

I can feel my neck already aching from all the looking up, and tear my eyes off my surroundings. Reina points to her house in the distance, but we’re not headed there. She wants to show me more of this land, its wonders and secrets. We’ve rested enough, after all.

 

“So, do all our domains have names?” I ask. “Like, you’re not just er… making that up, right?”

 

Reina shakes her head to my second question. “Before you ask, no, nobody specifically told me. Yet I know the name of my land to be true. It’s like intuitive, common knowledge, something birthed in your subconscious when you set foot here. You just know.”

 

I try extending that logic to my own, and find that the answer comes surprisingly easily.

 

“Land of Smoke and Mirrors.”

 

“I thought that was obvious enough,” Reina shrugs, before gesturing to keep up.

 

Hnggg… I guess there’s going to be a lot more walking to do.

 

When Midori told me that our lands were similar, I didn’t quite believe her, but now that I’m here… I can’t object. Her land is like mine, but just… more. We have similar geological formations, except hers are taller, in greater quantities, and while everything’s in shades of grey, her grey has a kind of soul to it, while mine’s just murky, dirty smoke.

 

As obvious in the name, Reina’s land doesn’t just consist of mountainous spires, but more specifically _spiral_ mountainous spires. None of the formations shoot straight to the top, instead each forming a kind of winding road upwards, either culminating in a pointed tip or a platform. Everything here seems to go in circles, but I trust Reina’s sense of direction such that we won’t get lost.

 

“I wanted to show you this,” Reina gestures, and I see one of the largest structures in the distance, have that feeling of deja-vu before realising that I have seen this before. It’s the same conical-flask mountain present in my land, the one Asuka said she had as well. Reina’s one stands out, the tallest column amongst skyscrapers, the original shape fitting nicely into the spiral theme. Unlike mine, hers doesn’t have the large statue waiting at the top, instead there seems to be a stone slab of sorts, but I can’t make out any more from this distance.

 

If it’s present on three lands, then it’s most likely a common feature that we all have. And anything common ascribes significance to it.

 

Reina eyes me as I rearrange the thoughts in my head, coming to the same logical conclusion. “Well, mine really stands out, so I suppose when you came to my land, it must’ve been obvious,” I say. "Speaking of which, how did you come over? I’m not curious about the gates, but how did you get up there? You don’t have a jetpack like-"

 

She holds up a hand to stop my rambling, before continuing to walk onwards. “As you said, your mountain stood out, so when I first came to your land, I used it as a landmark to estimate the direction of your house,” she says, not really answering the question. "That, and the other prominent hill I brought you up to.”

 

Her head’s angled to be able to see me, even as I walk behind her. “So obviously I had a view from up top, given that yes, I did enter from a gate. And I guess, I flew.”

 

Alright. That’s nice and simple. Reina flies.

 

It’s not that I don’t believe her - given recent events, my suspension of disbelief is well… hanging pretty high, like a helium balloon lost in the clouds. But the idea of Reina being able to ascend to such heights…

 

“Here’s the part,” I joke. “Where you explain your statement.”

 

“There’s not much that you can’t infer, but I guess I’ll spell it out for you.” Reina now climbs the face of one particular mountain to sit on a ledge, and helps me up. When we look out, it’s another spectacular view of the land from a middling vantage point. “Since this is a game, it’s not a stretch to believe that we’ve been granted certain abilities. So I’m not the only one capable of superhuman feats, although I believe our powers will manifest in different ways. The seniors needed contraptions to help them fly after all.”

 

So that’s what the president meant by ‘ability user’. It is true that Reina has basically been able to kick-ass that’d require years of strenuous martial-arts training, and a very powerful leaf blower built into the bell of her trumpet.

 

“I’m able to control air to a certain degree,” Reina states, and makes her point by making it a tad bit more breezy than usual. “My output’s not infinite, and my control weak. It’s only been a day after all. But I can channel wind to my bidding, and not just super breath or anything. I just like to use my trumpet because well… isn’t that an unorthodox weapon?”

 

“Uh… huh.”

 

“I experimented with all sorts of stuff yesterday,” she continues. “Controlling the air drains me, it’s like a muscle, in more ways than you can think. I’m now more aware of the air around me - which is basically, a lot, and I’m more of channeling available air than creating air itself. Much like focusing on hearing or seeing, even this awareness can be tiring. Then there’s the controlling part, which is like extending your hand and then moving it with all the weight of that air. To say that I can ‘fly’ is purpose incorrect. I catapulted myself from the roof of my house to the gate, and that almost took all the air out of me, so to speak.”

 

Reina grins at her own joke, and seeing her talking’s almost like a mirror of myself. Of course she’s also a huge nerd, of course Kousaka Reina’s only human, as much as she strives for alien perfection. I keep my chuckling to myself, and if Reina notices it, she doesn’t acknowledge.

 

“And hey, guess what! I can do this as well.”

 

Extending a finger, Reina points towards the gap between us, and I can almost see the wind solidifying around her. There’s a loud drilling sound as the air comes into contact with the diamond ground, and it almost seems to spark and burn from all the friction. When all’s said and done, she’s left a deep enough groove to make her point.

 

“That’s…” I stammer, unsure how to respond. “Eh... that’s really cool.”

 

“I know, right? I guess If I’m able to supply enough kinetic energy to the air particles, I can create a vibrating blade strong enough to cut through even the bonds forming a diamond lattice! Of course it requires a great amount to break the four covalent bonds, but-"

 

Yup. Definitely a nerd. She’s in the college prep class, isn’t she? No wonder she gets these things easily, all this science and the chemistry. I understand very little of it, because even when I try to pay attention in class I just can’t absorb it all, but I can listen to Reina talk about mundane things like this for hours. At least I think I can, because when she’s excited she just lights up, and it’s this whole other side of her shows and that’s… that’s nice.

 

“…anyway, I guess we really are special. I mean, all twelve of us are, but hey that’s more than everyone else back home, right?”

 

Whoops, I spaced out. Ha… I wonder if she noticed?

 

I feel a light bump where Reina nudges me, and she’s been all smiles talking about this, like a chance to be born again, a defining moment, a secret between us both. And I can’t helped but be sucked into her contagious energy.

 

“I um, don’t really know what my ability is though.”

 

"Don’t sweat it,” Reina waves off. "I’m just way too talented and got a head start. I’m sure you’ll catch up soon enough."

 

I bump Reina back, almost wanting to punch her on the shoulder. “Are you making fun of me?"

 

“I’d never dare,” Reina puts her hand to her mouth, pretending to be scandalised. “I have the utmost confidence in you that you’ll come out of your own. And you’ll be excellent. You _are_ excellent, Kumiko.”

 

She says the words with such conviction, that I can see myself believing them.

 

Reina straightens out her dress, getting ready to stand. “I’ve shown you plenty. Come on, let’s head back to my place.”

 

“Can we stay? Just a little while more.” My gaze is pointed towards the cascading ripples of light on the pillars of diamonds, almost like a trickling rainbow stream that bleeds into the rock. "It’s beautiful."

 

Reina moves closer to me, and we stay this way, lying against each other, her body curled into mine, my fingers ensconced in hers. I don’t want to disturb this, this moment, another one of many magical instances, where time doesn’t just stretch but expands outwards, filling up the space, eternally suspended and undisturbed, a dreamy bubble of its own that can’t bear to be popped.

 

I can hear Reina’ breathing, measured and level, and when her lips move, it’s music to my ears.

 

“Yeah, it is."


	20. Reverie 1.4.7 (Kumiko)

[♪] [Garden - Kajiura Yuki](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bPL-E1mt6f8) [♪]

 

“Reina.” My voice is unusually deadpan, even for me.

 

“Yes?”

 

“What are we doing.”

 

“What does it look like we’re doing?”

 

“Why are we doing this.”

 

“Just because.”

 

“Just because.” I’m too done to even bother phrasing it as a question.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Alright then. So, can I take this off?”

 

“But you look cute in it.”

 

“I _do not_.”

 

“Look, it even accentuates your curls. Fits with the ‘round’ look you have going on.”

 

“ _Reina!_ "

 

In a nutshell, we’ve spent the past fifteen minutes doing absolutely jack shit but muck around recycling and alchemizing completely useless items in Reina’s living room.

 

And now, I’ve been conned into donning this utterly ridiculous jumper which is basically an old sweater, a snow globe, and a recorder combined. As a result, it’s a globe-shaped jumper made out of inflatable glass, that can be expanded by blowing into the recorder mouthpiece - which incidentally, can somehow play music - and when you shake, fake snow falls out the bottom of the sweater.

 

How this stupid game would think this makes for even remotely good armour is beyond me. I’m just… done.

 

“Alright alright! You don’t have to wear it anymore, okay? I’ll be the model from now on for any outfits, but we gotta make do with what we have! There’s so many things we can try out!”

 

I proceed to punch my stomach repeatedly in an attempt to deflate the armour, before giving up and then wriggling out of it. You’d think with all the snow coming out of it it’d be cool inside, but it’s like a steaming sauna.

 

“Fine. Fineeeee. We do need… items and weapons or something if we’re going to be able to fend for ourselves. Me in particular, if I’m ever to return home, if my abilities ever manifest.”

 

Reina’s face lights up. “I’m sure they will. Thanks Kumiko, you’re a good sport."

 

"I try,” I smile weakly, before cracking my knuckles and sitting down crossed legged in front of the alchemiter, taking my place next to Reina. “Alright. What’s next?"

 

So, we spend the next hour coming up with alchemy ideas, what kinds of fusions and fissions would meet the criteria for most useful or most ridiculous creations - mainly the latter - and then spending the next hour and a half after that gathering enough resources and grist to finance our ludicrous shenanigans. There are different ways to combine these items, but no point dwelling on the specifics. 

 

Here are the results (put forth to the best of my narration).

 

[♪] [Tem Shop Rag - Akira Sora](http://vocaroo.com/i/s03HOewMoOY4) [♪]

 

Kitchen Knife + _Futari wa Pretty Cure Max Heart_  Poster = Pretty Knife (I don’t know what I expected, but I guess franchise-based items just became too real)  


 

MP3 Player + Reina’s Favourite Orange Juice = An MP3 Player That Can Only Play Sipping Sounds From a Box (what)

 

Trumpet + Shaving Cream (Reina’s dad’s) + Lighter = Trumpet Flamethrower (I should do this with my euphonium)

 

Earrings + MP3 Player = Earphones That Literally Pierce Into Your Ear (why was this a good idea)

 

Scarf + Printed JPG Of The "This Is Fine" Comic = Scarf That Only Gives You Anxiety (it's really just a regular scarf but apparently this is Reina's favourite meme so)

 

Ironing Board + Trumpet + Microwave = Rocket Powered Trumpet Hoverboard (that incidentally gives off deadly radiation)

 

Trumpet + Child Construction Hat + Snowglobe = A Musical Snowglobe With A Trumpet Wearing A Child Construction Hat (I wonder what metric causes the alchemiter to churn out completely useless items)

 

Etude Practice Book + Blender = Paper Shredder (?????)

 

Music Stand + Trumpet = Golden Spear Of Longevity (okay so this is actually the coolest thing we made also I don’t know why longevity)

 

Cheese Grater + Adidas Sneakers = Metal Spiked-Soled Boots That Would Wreck You (ouch)

 

Blender + Child Construction Hat = Helmet With Rotating Blades (on the exterior of course, like a helicopter)

 

Old Game Boy Advance + Wooden Owl Figure = Retro 8-Bit Cyborg Owl (this one’s actually quite cool)

 

Scarf + Box of Chocolates = A Scarf Made Out Of Intricately Knitted Chocolate String That Never Runs Out (yum)

 

Trumpet + Dress = Golden Sleeveless Dress (it fits Reina’s figure really well, the kind of thing that she could wear to prom and clinch the title of queen without a doubt)

 

Golden Sleeveless Dress +  _Futari wa Pretty Cure Max Heart_  Poster = Poster with Characters wearing Said Dress (the first time we realised that you can combine made items with other items, and Reina won’t be sleeping for days)  


 

Ironing Board + Bedsheets + Showa Period Painting = Showa Period Sleeping Bag Futon Complete With A Emperor Hirohito Body Pillow (for those with very specific niche fetishes, Reina thought it was hilarious)

 

Chocolate Scarf + Retro 8-Bit Cyborg Owl = Winged Cyborg Scarf Made Out Of Never-ending Chocolate String (I don’t recommend flying with this, would probably strangle you instead)

 

Playstation 2 Controllers x 2 + Rolling Pin + Street Fighter 2 Cartridge = Actually Painful Nunchucks That Spout Character Lines Overtime You Hit Something (nerd punishment)

 

And here are some machinations that needed to be shelved for the time being due to lack of sufficient funds - but Reina insists that the ‘blueprints’ will not go to waste.

 

Alchemiter + Trumpet = Fusion Trumpet (apparently you can add the alchemiter as well what a surprise no wonder this thing’s so expensive)

 

Alchemiter + Scarf + Playstation 2 Controllers x 2 = Fusion Scarf (that’s what it says and I don’t know what it does)

 

Trumpet Flamethrower + Golden Spear of Longevity = Okay Look This Weapon Looks Too Awesome I Can’t Even Describe It (enough said)

 

Golden Sleeveless Dress + Mum’s Jewellery = Embroidered Gown Fit For Only Literally A Queen (this dress is too beautiful I can’t even)

 

And many, many more.

 

After all’s said and done, we lay about the floor of Reina’s living room, exhausted with all our shitty items splayed out around us, like the unwrapping of presents on Christmas Day. Reina wears the Helmet With Rotating Blades, flying around the living room, pretending be a helicopter. It’s adorable, and silly, and she places her trumpet to her mouth to make these awful noises that sound nothing like a helicopter.

 

“Show off,” I tease, pouting with my arms crossed. Despite my initial protests… I think I really needed this. Having the liberty to just… let loose, be silly, have the time of our lives.

 

"Hey, hey! I know.”

 

Reina descends gracefully, and I clear some space so she can sit next to me. She doesn’t, instead bouncing on her heels, all excited.

 

"You can’t fly right?”

 

Oh. I don’t know if I like where this is going.

 

"I hope you’re not suggesting we create a euphonium jetpack." I think about the Trumpet-overboard and break into hives. That thing looks way too dangerous there’s no way I can balance on that you’ll put me on that alive-

 

"Oh, even better." Reina’s expression is one of glee, and I’ve never quite seen her uninhibited like this before. She’s let all her walls down, a new, wild creature taking form and growing with every second. Her presence is imposing, large, and she’s carrying all this hot air and momentum and creative potential that all artists have but it’s like they’ve been pent up in her for way too long.

 

“I’m gonna make you a trampoline that’ll shoot you all the way up. Oh! And then maybe we’ll need a parachute for you to get down safely. Maybe a jetpack’s a better idea after all? Whatever, but Kumiko! You need to experience what it’s like to be up there!”

 

What.

 

Never mind that just yesterday night I took to the skies in the warm embrace of Asuka-senpai after being nearly clobbered by my own mirror-clone. Reina’s already taken off, and I’m caught in her current again, a sweeping wave consuming everything, and it’s like I’m drowning all over again, except it’s not as bad and I’m not sure if I want to be in on the ride but just maybe I do?

 

I’m sitting there dumbstruck, mouth gaping in awe, and just… only one word comes to mind as Reina prattles on and on about how she’s going to send me shooting for the moon.

 

_What._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A pretty different Reina. One who puts forth her passion more directly with people she trusts, a different kind of intimacy beyond the dramatic teasing so characteristic of Kumirei interactions. Not that we won’t have those, but I wanted something more honest and simple to contrast with those extravagantly poetic moments. After all, they are kids, and like kids do, they just love screwing around.
> 
> I really hope I didn’t go too out of whack into OOC territory.
> 
> NOTE: I can no longer find the original link for the Tem Shop Rag cover by 'Akira Sora', if someone does have it please tell me and I'll link it up properly.


	21. Reverie 1.4.8 (Kumiko)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly earlier update because I'll be overseas for the weekend with a tenuous internet connection. Enjoy.

[♪] [去来する想い - 松田彬人](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0p16gmRgxao) [♪]

 

The phone rings for a full twelve times, and I’m ready to hang up when I hear her voice on the other end.

 

"Hello?"

 

"Hey, Aoi-chan.” I can hear the relief in my own voice, and wonder if I’m being way too needy… of course not. _Kumiko, you’re just checking in on an old friend, and you only think your vague older-sister-complex is obvious because you’re already thinking about it._  


 

“What’s up?"

 

"I just wanted to ehh... talk, y’know.” I manage to craft a semblance of a socially acceptable excuse. "We haven’t been able to catch up ever since we landed in this crazy situation, you know?”

 

Aoi is as understanding and friendly as always, and her voice seems to settle down on the other side. “Of course, Kumiko. I’ve been wondering about you and we didn’t really get to talk at your place… it sure is weird without Mamiko-san there, huh..?”

 

Okay well. That’s not helping, and she seems to have noticed her mistake because she did start trailing off after that question and okay let’s get back on other topics, divert digress deflect…

 

“Well, I’m at Rei-… Kousaka-san’s place now. She’s planning something kooky here, and I while can’t dissuade her, I think it’ll help my anxiety to talk to you.” _Oh why am I still trying to justify my talking to Aoi?_ “So… um... how’re you holding up?"

 

I can almost imagine Aoi twisting her braids around her finger as she talks to me. “Mm… well my… island’s as inhospitable as yours. I guess misery does love company, huh?"

 

"Oh, Aoi-chan…” She gets both my empathy and sympathy, and she’s never really been self deprecating before and I don’t know how to-

 

"Ha! I’m kidding! I mean, I’m not kidding about my island being tough. It’s not so much difficult as me being way too poorly equipped to deal with it. It’s freezing here, you know? I spent my first hour here gathering all my thick clothes and trying to start a fire!"

 

The implications are obvious enough. "Perpetual winter?"

 

“Bingo.” Aoi seems to lighten up, and that eases me as well. "I guess it can be pleasant enough, and it’s not so bad now with a warm cup of green tea and a blanket fort, but I wouldn’t go outside much.”

 

“You sound like you’re in a cozy place now, Aoi-chan.”

 

“When the weather lightens up, you should come over,” she says, basically inviting me. “It’d be nice to hang out with you, go exploring in snow and all.”

 

“Mm,” I smile, gripping my phone tight. “That sounds wonderful.”

 

“Have hope, okay?” she tells me, as much as she’s saying it for herself. “I’m sure we’ll be able to get home.”

 

Home. The thought hadn’t really crossed my mind, but it makes perfect sense. Of course this is the perfect form of escapism, a fantasy world away from school life, from studies and band and family and friends and… but do I really want to be away from them forever? I… I don’t really know. Would it be so bad to stay here forever?

 

I glance at Reina, wistfully oblivious and tinkering with the alchemiter. I think about Hazuki and Midori, about Natsuki-senpai and Asuka-senpai and back to Aoi on the phone, and…

 

I think of my sister, and how much I actually do miss her now.

 

“Yeah…” I whisper. “I miss you.”

 

“I miss you too.”

 

Oh crap oh crap oh crap. I can’t believe I just blurted that out! It wasn’t really meant for Aoi, but then again it sorted fit, and she replied?! She-!

 

“Don’t worry about it, I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.” Aoi’s at it again with her cool confidence and jaded wisdom. She’s smaller than me, and looks my age that I forget she’s actually older, even if subconsciously she’s like a long lost older sister. “We’ll be fine for now. Take care okay?”

 

That’s my cue to keep this short. “Alright. You too, Aoi."

 

When I hang up, I find myself really wanting to see her soon.

* * *

 

“It’s done."

 

Reina wipes the sweat off her brow, her hair neatly coiffed into a bun, hidden behind a headscarf fashioned from the Anxiety Scarf (it’s called the Knit Knot Worry). She’s also donned a newly alchemized apron armour (Apron + Iron + Ironing Board) to create what she’s ironically (ha) named the “Wrinkleless Broad”.

 

She looks really domestic, but at the same time like a genius scientist who's just had their Eureka Moment™. Strange imagery I'm invoking huh.

 

Reina gestures towards the contraption that stands on the platform of the alchemiter, fresh out of the proverbial oven. It doesn’t look like a trampoline, and even starting to describe it… I don’t know.

 

“I know it sounds weird, but the main mechanism is taken from fusing a toaster-“

 

“A toaster.”

 

“Yeah, the springs and all - look, it’s the most cost effective component I could find, okay?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“And basically along with the oven converting heat energy into elastic potential energy we should be able to bring you up to sixth gate level within seven revolutions! Of course I’ve added cushioning with some pillows so that you won’t smash your knees-"

 

Chemistry, Physics, Math… is there anything this girl isn’t good at? I’m honestly astounded at the ways Reina can apply herself.

 

“-… and then, on the ninth revolution, you should be high enough to have possibly broken free of the gravitational pull of this land! Not that you will, but you might, and you definitely will on the tenth, which is where you’ll open up your parachute so that you can come back safely down."

 

“Er… oh… kay?”

 

Reina pats me on the back, fussing around, making me wear the Helicopter Helmet - for safety! - along with other gear to prepare me for liftoff. It’s all very bizarre, but I take it in stride, and hey maybe it will be fun after all.

 

“Hey,” she says, as she fastens my parachute harness around my waist. "You know, you don’t really have to humour me. I might’ve gotten a little carried away, sure, but-“

 

“It’s cool,” I tell her, and find that I mean it. “Isn’t it too late for you to be backing out now, anyway?”

 

She runs her fingers through her hair in that very-Reina way, her fringe tangling and then falling back down. “I guess. As silly as this all sounds, when we actually pull it off, it’ll be pretty awesome, huh?”

 

“Yeah,” I grin. "Just make sure that I well… don’t uh die.” Way to go, Kumiko, being all morbid.

 

Reina gives a serious face as she holds my forearm. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll follow you as high as I can.” She points to herself, and then hovers above the ground for a bit. She’s getting better at controlling the wind around her. “If anything happens, I promise to be there. I’ll catch you if you fall, okay?"

 

Her gaze could inspire belief even from the most ardent atheists, a kind of zeal that you just want to follow. It’s keen, alluring, and just…

 

Wait, her eye moved. Was that a wink?

 

“Did you just wink?”

 

And like that, Reina flinches away, in full flush, and the spell is broken, and my stomach already hurts before I know what’s going on because I’ve burst into laughter, I’m laughter too much and I’m even tearing up… aha oh gosh-

 

“You’re trying too hard, Reina!"

 

"Am not!” 

 

Her cheeks puff up as she struggles between turning away or just facing me with her pride intact, and it’s adorable. She’s so cute when she’s upset like that-

 

"Don’t worry, you’re charming enough as it is,” I assure her, still chuckling and trying to hug her waist. "Way too much feminine wiles to make my heart pine for you-"

 

"Just go already!”

 

I put my hands up in surrender. “Alright then..!” No point teasing her further, and I better not take this too far. I turn to leave, but I’m stopped by her hand. She’s still holding it.

 

And without warning, Reina pulls me in, and I feel something wet on my cheek. I don’t bother touching it, not sure if I want to confirm what just happened, but it’s nice, and I have no time to feel bewildered or anything, this emotional rollercoaster enough as it is, and Reina’s genuine eyes look into mine.

 

“Stay safe.”

 

“I will.”

 

* * *

[♪] [Skaian Birth - Mark Hadley ](https://homestuck.bandcamp.com/track/skaian-birth)[♪]

 

The first jump’s pretty much normal.

 

From the third one, things start to get pretty eh… testy. It’s like I might not stick the landing, just crumbling and then I’ll smash my knees or something and then I’ll bounce in those weird awkward positions that look like they’d really hurt.

 

Somehow, even though my legs are wobbly like jelly, they hold up.

 

Fourth jump, and I’m already higher than my house. I vaguely remember Reina saying something about how this would escalate exponentially, something to do with catching the momentum and kinetic energy. Welp.

 

Fifth jump, and yeah, it’s like a real rollercoaster, especially the drop down. I want to scream, but the wind pushes itself into my lungs so fast, I’m almost choking and the sound doesn’t come out. Reprieve is sweet and short, because I’m already back up in the sky, the ground disappearing so fast and I can feel the pressure on my fragile little body. Can’t believe I’m only halfway.

 

By the seventh jump, Reina’s right, and I actually can scream, but I’m covering so much distance so quickly that the sound just gets drowned out. That, and maybe I don’t want to scream, it’s just too tiring considering what’s going on. You realise that most of my mental processes throughout this whole thing just seems to be focused on ‘screaming’.

 

When I’m going up the eighth jump - I think it’s the eighth jump, and I hope I haven’t lost count - it almost feels like I’d barrel straight through Reina's seventh gate like an unstoppable rocket, and then I’d have to face her denizen, and I have a gut feeling that it won’t turn out as nicely as Hazuki’s encounter. Heck, they’re not even my denizen. Maybe screaming’s a good idea.

 

The only good thing about going down the eighth time is knowing that it’s the last time at such a speed.

 

Ninth time. My hands move to the parachute as I grit my teeth on the ascent. I’ve basically closed my eyes from the fifth jump, and feel for the deceleration, as my body starts being opposed by gravity, hauled back to the ground and I reach the peak of my flight. Then, I pull with all I can.

 

And I allow myself to open my eyes.

 

Okay wow. What a sight.

 

It doesn’t register that whatever’s below me is Reina’s land. I’m really high up now, but I’m still headed downwards, albeit relatively slowly. The drag from the parachute really allows me to take my time, and I’m not surprised if there’s thrusters built into this thing or something. I spot a little speck waiting for me, and take it to be Reina.

 

But then I twist my body to look upwards, look behind me, and then the way Reina’s land looks finally makes sense.

 

It’s not even really correct to call them ‘lands’ anymore, and the revelation hits like a freight truck as the world rushes into view and the universe shrinks away from me. But I know what I’ve seen.

 

They’re not just lands, god forbid islands or continents.

 

They’re planets. Each to her own. An entire globe!

 

No mistaking it. I could see the curvature of Reina’s planet, a distinct sphere shape, and when I looked back, I could see the vague silhouette of the other planets. Twelve of them, spaced out in a singular orbit around the central celestial body, the ‘sun’ of sorts. All this time, we’ve just been able to teleport via the gates to other planets. That explains why each land seems so uniformly distinct from each other without the borders compromising or bleeding into each other.

 

What we’ve been mistaking as the sun, is in fact not a sun, but something else entirely. It’s like another planet of its own, but then again it looks way too nebulous to just be a planet. It’s huge, blue like the sky, as though the it’s the sky itself, and no doubt a celestial body of vast importance. Natsuki said that the inhabitants of her land told her that we’re supposed to be building towards it, as though that’s a final goal to be reached. Perhaps, that’s our gateway home?

 

So many questions that I have unanswered, and I’m bursting at the seams to tell all this to Reina, to Aoi, to everyone. 

 

But the world just opened up, and it’s so much bigger than I could’ve imagined. It seems so obvious in retrospect, but as the boundaries get pushed, tested, defined, it really feels as though our adventure, whatever it is, is finally taking shape.

 

It’s like waking from a dream as reality sets in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! The big reveal that’s not really a big reveal if you’ve already read Homestuck but hey. World building..! *pumps fist in the air even though it’s technically not my world*
> 
> The logic is that even though some of them have been flying they haven’t flown **high** up enough to notice the curvature of the land and that the horizon actually falls off OKAY SUE ME I THOUGHT IT’D BE COOL TO TRAMPOLINE KUMIKO INTO SPACE IS THAT A CRIME.
> 
> One more chapter to wrap up this arc, and then we’re barreling into the next!


	22. Reverie 1.4.9 (Kumiko)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's a story that's survived an arc. Thank you for reading.

[♪] [新天地 - 松田彬人](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aWn3dW42EME) [♪]

 

"Hey, the cookies are ready!”

 

Hazuki walks out of her kitchen with Midori in tow, setting down a piping hot tray of classic chocolate chip cookies. Two more batches of caramel and matcha flavoured ones stay sizzling in the oven behind them.

 

"These baked delights are gonna be special treats that I can only reserve for occasions like these! After all, it’s not like there’s a convenience store down the road anymore."

 

Reina blows onto one of the cookies before giving it a quick nibble. “Can’t you just alchemise the cookies?"

 

Hazuki frowns, considering the idea before chucking them aside. “Well… that’s weird. I prefer them freshly made, y’know?"

 

“Well, we can just alchemise the ingredients then,” Midori suggests, lightly tapping away Reina’s hand to prevent her from taking more before the cookies get time to properly rest.

 

"Mm… that sounds alright.” Hazuki puts a thoughtful finger to her lips.

 

Reina seems perturbed. "How’s that any different from just alchemising them in the first place?"

 

"I don’t know… really. Maybe it’s because I wanna put in the work to make them mine? It’s the heart and sweat that goes into it that makes it nice after all. And the flour and sugar and butter come pre-packaged and stuff already so it’s not as weird to just poof it out of nowhere."

 

Reina accepts the answer, sneaking another bite from under Midori’s nose. "You can’t create something out of nothing, but sure."

 

"There’s always a cost,” Midori agrees, giving up and opening access to the cookies now that they’ve cooled down - no doubt sped up by Reina slipping in wind to bring them down to room temperature fast.

 

“Well, not much point worrying how the sausage gets made, as long as you get to enjoy it.” Reina lifts up the cookie, a roundabout way of complimenting the chef. Hazuki seems glad that we like them, rubbing her oven mittens together.

 

“Yeah. I guess!”

 

The four of us have gathered at Hazuki’s at Midori’s insistence after breaking the news about the planets. We decided it’d be a good place to just chill, hang out and rest after all this craziness. It really is a beautiful place, Hazuki’s Land of Totems and Rivers.

 

Hazuki's a bit shaken but recovering, and Midori has been tending to her, almost mothering her throughout the day. Her hands are all wrapped up, similar to my bandages after the encounter with the distortion.

 

"Hey I guess we have another thing in common now, huh? With our shared wounds and all."

 

It's just like Hazuki to say corny stuff like that. She extends her fist for me to bump, and I oblige her. She's not wrong, and being bonded through pain sounds idealistic yet... real. She's all smiles, but knowing how it feels when blood is spilt allows me to appreciate her optimism even more.

 

Something I can learn from, I guess.

 

We help in setting up some lawn chairs, Hazuki’s idea that we can camp out the front of her house, snacks and drinks in tow as we watch the sunset, and just enjoy the evening breeze with good company.

 

[♪] [Lower Your Eyelids To Die With The Sun - M83](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=avk5YDc1dsk) [♪]

 

Dusk starts to arrive, and blue starts to wilt into orange, which bleeds into a byzantium horizon. The clouds are stunning sketches from a Renaissance mural, and the shadows cast by the totems scatter themselves into larger than life patterns throughout the earth. It's quite a sight as we sit there just watching, talking, hanging out. 

 

It's nice.

 

A break from the mundane pattern of things, getting caught up in productivity, even needless productivity in the form of alchemical hijinks. Just four girls. Four friends.

 

Slowly but surely, the skyline changes, colours melting and gradients shifting, the ball of light we once thought was the sun but now know better to be just another planet now descending, hiding beneath the earth. Streaky petals of light flake upwards, until even the residual shimmer fades into smoke, and darkness opens the door into a new chapter of the everlasting cycle of the seasons. Day dies, and our eyelids grow heavier as the soft, pleasing wafts of deep indigo colour the landscape.

 

The starless night reveals itself, specks of light dissolving into the horizon. The totems now stick out of the earth in silhouettes of reverence, not unlike gravestones, giving a new air of mysticism to them. They break the shape of the rivers that now have nothing to reflect in them.

 

I stretch out in my chair, and it’s long enough for my to rest my feet just as the edge curves downwards. Being the tallest, I can only imagine how much room Midori has, and to my left Hazuki squirms about while sipping on some chocolate milk; to my right Reina lounges in her seat, pensive and thoughtful.

 

“Isn’t it weird,” Midori starts, gazing upwards. “That even in a completely different universe… it feels like we’re just back on Earth? How real everything is - the sights and sounds, the smells and even the tastes… and the sky.”

 

She reaches forward with her tiny hands, grasping at something I can’t see. "It really does remind me of home… of Uji."

 

"I’m starting to miss home,” Midori sighs, concluding her train of thought. 

 

“Me too,” Hazuki adds in. “I don’t think it’s really set in for me that I might never get to see my family again… you know? And that one day all the unrealised regrets I have… people I should’ve talked to, people I should’ve forgiven, things I could’ve done only back home…”

 

Her voice trails off, almost quivering. I stay very still in my seat, as though the slightest movement could spoil the moment, break the tension in a horribly silly way.

 

“But! I’m going to have hope, as much of it as I can!”

 

“I’m sorry. I think y’all might be too done having to listen to my cheesy quotes and baseless optimism, huh?" 

 

"Uhm…” I start, wanting to contribute something, anything. Listening to poor Hazuki put herself down like that, it’s painful and undeserving when she’s been nothing but a sweetheart, and-

 

"No need to apologise.”

 

Reina’s the one who speaks up, and her tone is measured and confident as usual. "Each of us are different, with our own strengths and weaknesses, but you should never think of your personality as a flaw. It’s almost charismatic, your naivety. Sometimes I wish I could be like that, but that wouldn’t be me. That’s you, and we need you. We want you, okay?

 

If I strain my imagination enough, I can make out sniffling from Hazuki. "Thanks, Reina.”

 

Midori almost coos at her. “You can be a darling at times, Reina, you know?”

 

There’s no comment from Reina, and in the dark I can’t tell if she’s keeping her usual stoic face or blushing.

 

“Anyways, there’s so many things I miss!” Hazuki puffs out her chest, her words coming out in an exclamation of air. "And maybe thinking of them would serve as good motivation for the things we have to do, yeah? I miss freshly baked pastries!”

 

“I miss weekends spent in the mall,” Midori says.

 

“I miss taking the train,” I pipe up, albeit weakly.

 

“I miss practicing the trumpet in a studio.”

 

“I miss civilisation,” Hazuki cries out. "I miss other people!"

 

“I miss other people I _know_ ,” Midori half-whines. “I miss my girls - Sera and Yoshino and El-"

 

Hazuki cuts in, half musing. "And boys, I guess."

 

“Really?” Midori arches her eyebrows, turning on her side to fully face Hazuki.

 

“Boys?” I second, almost exasperated.

 

"Yeah… I mean like well,” Hazuki gestures, all hot and bothered. It’s not that I don’t love you girls, I do! But you know-! Guys and stuff…"

 

Midori leans in, wiggling her eyebrows. “Well, is there a special someone you’re thinking about, Hazuki?”

 

"Like! I-I mean… don’t you all… isn’t it normal?” Hazuki tries deflecting. “Not just cute boys or anything but like, just… boys!” She throws her hands up in the air, giving up.

 

"The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind, to be honest,” I say.

 

"I have to agree with you there,” Reina speaks up, and it takes me a moment to realise she’s not talking to me. 

 

It’s my turn to give Reina a quizzical look, which she blatantly ignores. She looks over me towards Hazuki. “But I don’t really miss boys, it’s more of the opposite gender in general. Males bring a whole lot of different traits to the table, especially when they’re grown and more matured. Steadfast discipline, determination, an aura of strength and sharpness. Typical masculine traits that would make our group more rounded, not that it isn’t good already.”

 

“It looks like Reina likes her guys older,” Midori teases, before Hazuki jabs her. 

 

“Nah I don’t think it’s like that. You miss your dad, huh? He was… a music guy too right?” Hazuki says. "Yeah, it makes sense since he’s probably a huge part of your upbringing and musical journey and all. It’s nice having a male role model that you can respect."

 

Nah. It’s not her dad. I mean, I’m not insinuating that Reina doesn’t love her father or her parents but rather that… she’s thinking of another man, and connecting the dots...

 

"But anyways, I miss school too,” Hazuki continues. "And band, even though many core members are here."

 

Just like that, the topic changes again. I don’t think anyone wants to dwell on guys anyway. Neither do I.

 

"I wonder how Riko-san and Gotou-san are doing,” Midori muses. "It must be pretty tough with the rest of the bass section being here, huh?”

 

“I guess,” I sigh. I don’t mention that there aren’t any more euphoniums back home. "How about the trumpets?”

 

“They’re hopeless,” Reina says immediately, her voice flat. “The three best players are here, and the rest… I hope time has been stagnant back home when we’re away, because we literally will have no chance at nationals.”

 

I start to protest. “Reina-!"

 

“Kasano-san would become the section leader by default since she’s the most senior, but she doesn’t have it in her. Kabe-senpai has heart, but her skills are far lacking. As for Yoshizawa-“

 

“Hey,” I reach forward, miming a flicking motion towards Reina’s forehead. “You can’t just say that. That’s not… that’s-"

 

Reina cocks her head to one side. “Why not? It’s true. Plus when it comes to nationals, you-“

 

“Nope,” I turn around, whispering to myself and covering my ears. “I’m not doing this now."

 

This time, it’s Hazuki who swoops in to Reina’s defence. “Kumiko… I’m sure Reina only has the band’s best intentions at heart. I mean it is true, with so many key members out of the show, whatever audition Taki-sensei had in mind might not happen at all, as we might not even have the numbers. In fact, the kind of emergency state the band would be in…"

 

Silence trails off, and we’re left to fill in the gaps in the unsaid words.

 

“With the President, Vice-President and Accountant missing… I wonder who’ll fill in the gap?” Midori muses, turning her attention to the night sky. “Looking at the other section leaders… Torizuka-san?”

 

“I doubt so,” Reina replies. “She is strong in her playing, but she already is the concertmistress. Plus she’s not imposing enough- not that Ogasawara-senpai was, but with Tanaka’s partnership, she held her own."

 

“Kitamura-san..? Nah, how about Sawada-senpai? Hmm… Oka-senpai has presence-"

 

"Just because you have a loud voice doesn’t mean you have presidential qualities,” Reina chastises, then her tone almost drops into a snicker. “Imagine if Tanabe-san was president-“

 

Hazuki laughs, an almost silly giggle. “He’s such a knucklehead. Heck, if that’s the case, I’d be in the running for president!"

 

"Who knows?” I say out loud. “Don’t put yourself down like that. I’m sure you’ll make an excellent leader."

 

Hazuki chuckles, and it’s so sincere and lighthearted I can’t even see it as self deprecating. "Me? Naw. I think you could do it, Kumiko.” Her voice is dreamy, aloof.

 

"Ehhhh?! N-n-no! I couldn’t possibly…” That’s a curveball I didn’t expect. "It’s not well… uhh it’s not me…"

 

“If it makes both of you better, I don’t think I could do it either,” Midori says, too cheerful to be actually comforting. “But I don’t think it should be a matter of self-esteem. We can be amazing people, but our quality as leaders, whatever that means… doesn’t have to be top notch, you know? If there’s other people who can do the job better, why not?” 

 

She kicks her tiny legs like treading water, the light patter on her lounge chair almost clumsy. “I don’t envy ambition. The endless struggle for power and perfection can only end in bitterness and loneliness. Erm… no offence, Reina."

 

"None taken,” Reina replies, nonchalant. "I only seek to be the best me I can be."

 

I frown at her statement. I doubt that was a blatant lie, but it wasn’t a whole truth either - for Reina’s idea of special precludes being different from others, being above others. Just something so that she can soften Midori’s glancing blow, or..?

 

Just then, there’s the ugly sound of someone blowing their nose, and turning to the left, I can see that it’s Hazuki. Even in the dark, there’s a visible stream of translucent mucus from her nose down her chin, which she dabs at with tissue. There’s a constellation of tears pooling around her eyes, shimmering even in this starless night, like rare ripples that peek out of the water, a crease of light on the calm river that blankets her planet.

 

They conglomerate into fat drops that now trickle down her cheeks, her cheeks that are still lifted by her smile, and for the life of me I cannot imagine what she must be feeling right now. For this pillar of positivity to crack like that, is she trying too hard? Is there something I can do, to help, to… I don’t know.

 

"Thanks for talking to me, girls,” she grins, and by now it’s apparent to everyone that Hazuki is sobbing. She covers her eyes with her forearm, almost embarrassed, and Midori’s already out of her seat to kneel by her side. 

 

"It makes it feel like everything’s normal, you know?” Hazuki continues on. "Even when, it kinda isn’t. I don’t think it’s really settled in for me yet, and…”

 

Her breathing’s erratic, and she coughs as I help her to sit upright, and Midori pats her back, the last few splutters choking themselves as she tries to assure us that she’s alright. "So sorry… I’m fine it’s just… a lot, you know? All these feels…”

 

There’s a glimmer in her eye that I can’t describe. She seems so happy to be here, and I retire back into my seat as she continues to stare at the sky, the tears forming tiny watercolour creeks using her face as a canvas. "It’s all so exciting, but it’s also so scary and…” 

 

Hazuki sighs, and its a breathless sigh, almost like her mouthing her dying words. “I’m tired. We haven’t started, but already I’m so tired…”

 

Fatigue sets in for all of us, and hearing Hazuki voice those words makes it all the more real. Even with all the sleeping I did, none of it had been particularly restful, and now I just want to tuck myself away from all of this, dozing into a dreamless state of nothingness.

 

"But at least I have you all… right?”

 

She phrases her question as a statement, and we affirm her in kind, building upon her belief.

 

“Mm,” I grin, an inaudible yawn escaping my lips.

 

Hazuki reaches out, her hand asking for mine and I meet her halfway. To her left, Midori has also embraced Hazuki with interlocking fingers. I tilt my head to Reina, and find that her eyes are already closed, hands above her chest like a statue poised for a funeral.

 

I can feel Hazuki’s thumb brushing mine as we hold each other, and pain pricks where our scars meet. But that’s okay - I don’t think I hate this kind of pain. It reminds me even as I nod off to sleep, that I’m alive.

 

I’m here, I’m alive, and I’m with friends who are just as vulnerable and scared but ready to rise to the challenge. We’ll get through this together.

 

Underneath a canopy of undisturbed indigo smoother than glass, I lower my eyelids and let my consciousness die with the light, the flickering flame of a candle peacefully whisked away by the wind, until only smoke is left, and sleep helps weakness leave the body.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Mm?

 

Mmm… oh...

 

Colour seeps through my eyelids like coffee stains on a napkin, and I’m greeted to a morning of brown and orange and blue. Waking up is very much like falling asleep, a getting out that’s just the opposite of getting into. The murmuring of rushing water perks my ears up, inviting me to gossip secrets with them.

 

Dawn heals us with its soothing presence, the end of a cathartic cycle and the start of another. My eyes adjust to the light as sweat starts getting my clothes damp, and I tie my hair up to prevent too much from sticking to the back of my ears. Midori’s already awake, admiring the view in her thoughtful bubble of solitude, but the other two are still sound asleep. 

 

Reina hasn’t seemed to have moved at all at first glance, but of course she has. Her hair’s the graceful aftermath of a tempest, and one hand has moved lower such that it shelters her stomach. Her eyelashes quiver and her lips part ever so slightly with each rise and fall of her chest.

 

Hazuki’s scruffy fringe and splayed limbs cast bronze shadows on the remainder of her sun-kissed skin. You can tell she’s a beloved child of nature, at ease with the outdoors, and she seems so comfortable. The weird angle she’s in allows me to admire her toned muscles, and I’m a tad jealous at what years of tennis has done for her.

 

The planet clearer than the sky manifests above as our new sun, radiant and glowing with energy and hope. I don’t think it really matters whether it’s a planet or a gaseous star, because either way it illuminates our world, and if I don’t remember the details, it’s almost like back home.

 

Home.

 

We’re going back home one day, I know we will. But until then, here’s to another day. Another day in this reality that we might as well enjoy, and live to the best of our abilities.

 

It’s only been just the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s the end of an arc!  
> Here’s a review of the story so far.
> 
> Characters  
> (Last Name) then (First Name)
> 
> First Years:  
> Oumae Kumiko - Protagonist of the original Hibike!Euphonium series, a pensive euphonium player with a keen eye for people.  
> Kousaka Reina - Trumpet player who takes music seriously, wants to become special by being the best at what she does.  
> Katou Hazuki - Trombone player with no prior musical background. Energetic and free spirited, tries her hardest.  
> Kawashima “Midori” Sapphire - Small contrabass player (like tiny), talented but with low self-esteem.
> 
> Second Years:  
> Nagakawa Natsuki - Euphonium player with little motivation after the mass exodus. Dispassionate, likes to sleep.  
> Yoshikawa Yuuko - Trumpet player who loves her seniors. Commanding and demanding, kinda whiny but means well.  
> Kasaki Nozomi - Ex-flute player who led a mass exodus of the concert band the year before. Charismatic and driven, a natural leader.  
> Yoroizuka Mizore - Oboe player, the band’s only one. Quiet, reserved girl who used to be best friends with Nozomi.
> 
> Third Years:  
> Ogasawara Haruka - President of the Kitauji Concert Band and Saxophone Section Leader and plays Baritone Saxophone. Kind and has a good head on her shoulders, but lives in the shadow of Asuka and questions her self efficacy.  
> Tanaka Asuka - Vice President of Band, Bass Section Leader and Euphonium player. A mysterious, elusive girl who’s nearly perfect in every way, from music to academics to leadership skills, but stays neutral and passive.  
> Nakaseko Kaori - Treasurer and Trumpet Section Leader. A beautiful, popular girl her juniors adore. She’s gentle and kind and looks out for her friends.  
> Saitou Aoi - Tenor Saxophone player, Kumiko’s childhood friend. Friendly and calm, but jaded due to her seniority. Struggles with balancing academics and band.
> 
> Timeline (in case you have no idea what’s happening, chapter will be placed next to the event):
> 
> Sunday  
> 0914, 2nd years connect to and play the game, entering Medium  
> 1020, 3rd years connect to and play the game, entering Medium  
> 1111, Nozomi and Yuuko, and Aoi wake up  
> 1200, Nozomi finds out about Gryphons, Yuuko finds out existence of gates, Aoi struggles to start a fire  
> 1225, Asuka wakes up  
> 1313, Mizore and Kaori wake up  
> 1330 Asuka explores her land, befriends inhabitants  
> 1400, Mizore finds out about her inhabitants, Yuuko decides to stare at her screen  
> 1409, 1st years connect to and play the game, entering Medium  
> 1510, Natsuki and Haruka wake up, Yuuko contacts Natsuki (1.1.1)  
> 1530, Midori and Reina wake up, Natsuki goes exploring, Haruka and Kaori stay in their houses and talk to each other  
> 1540, Natsuki meets Suntory (1.1.2)  
> 1545, Reina explores her land  
> 1600, Kumiko wakes up, Nozomi rides a gryphon into Asuka’s land (1.2.1), Natsuki meets Ruinaulta talks about Denizens (1.1.3)  
> 1615, Nozomi meets Asuka (1.2.2), goes to her place to discuss things and stay over  
> 1630 Midori explores her land  
> 1700, Hazuki wakes up, Kumiko explores her land  
> 1730 Midori returns, contacts Hazuki and Reina. Hazuki agrees to explore with Midori the next day.  
> 1800 Yuuko returns, invites Kitsune into her house (1.7.1), Kumiko returns discouraged and shuts herself in  
> 2000 Yuuko talks to Mizore, then drives the Kitsune out (1.7.1)  
> 2015 Nozomi calls Mizore and Mizore emos (1.8.1)  
> 2100 Natsuki returns home, consolidates information  
> 2200 Midori, Hazuki lights out to prepare for the next day
> 
> Monday  
> 0600, Hazuki goes out with Midori (1.3.1)  
> 0730, Finds out about blood, goes back to rest  
> 0914, Asuka wakes up, talks to Nozomi (1.9.1)  
> 0941, Begin experimentation and work  
> 1100, Hazuki Start Expedition  
> 1400, Visiting Haruka and Kaori, bringing the former to the latter’s  
> 1600, Meet Aoi  
> 1800, Reina leaves house as the third years come, finding nothing and exploring further  
> 1850, Hazuki enters the cave (1.3.2)  
> 1900, Hazuki meets Abraxas (1.3.3)  
> 1910, Midori leaves her house (1.6.1)  
> 1930, Reina brings Kumiko out (1.5.1)  
> 2015, Reina and Kumiko reach pseudo Mt. Daikichi, things get flirty (1.4.2)  
> 2025, The distortions attack (1.4.3)  
> 2035, Asuka, Aoi and Nozomi save the day (1.4.4)  
> 2045, Return to Kumiko’s, take shifts to contact Midori and Hazuki (1.4.5)
> 
> Tuesday  
> 0419, Midori contacted  
> 0430, Meeting start  
> 0530, Consensus arrived, sleep and then Kumiko will be moved for the time being  
> 1221, Wake up and move to Reina’s and explore her land (1.4.6)  
> 1430, Start the fucking around (1.4.7)  
> 1800, Find out that they are planets and not just lands (1.4.8)  
> 1900, The first years gather at Hazuki’s and watch the sunset (1.4.9)


	23. Somnum Lux 2.1.1.1 (Haruka)

[♪] [Good Morning - Stone Ocean](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rT-tljzq8fI) [♪]

 

Stirring of the sheets, a soft kind of gold swimming in my vision. The walls stretch and curve into a dome, blurring like a yellow brick road.

 

“Hey President. You’re awake.”

 

"Mm… mmm?"

 

The blankets unfold into the floor, and I find myself rolling with them, clumsy and stumbling. Cloth catches me and cushions my fall, and despite the blinding gold, I can make out the kind and familiar face looking at me.

 

“Had a good sleep? It’s taken you some time to come to, but all things considered, you’re still early.”

 

I frown, struggling to form a connection to name and face. It’s embarrassing, considering how I’ve made it a point to remember each member of concert band, no matter how new they are. Lethargy is no excuse, and I sit up sharply to rouse myself.

 

“You’re…” ah of course, how could I forget? “Kawashima, aren’t you?”

 

She beams, kicking her legs from… is she floating? I assumed earlier that she must’ve been sitting on something, but that something turns out to be thin air. No matter. Suspension of belief is something I’m getting used to around here.

 

“Everything alright, President?”

 

“Yeah,” I reply, as I get to my feet, looking at my new yellow gown as I do so. Kawashima’s dressed similarly, an almost identical frock with a faded crescent moon as the shirt’s main design - just like mine. This small room with only a window definitely isn’t my room, even as it shares similar affectations, so…

 

“I’m sure you have questions. I’d tell you everything, but I’ve found it’s much more meaningful and fun when you find out for yourself. Go exploring and such.”

 

Kawashima floats even higher now, a halfway to the ceiling. "It's more enjoyable than you think! No wonder people love traveling to experience new cultures."

 

I'm still a bit lost, but decide to get started with preliminaries. “Kawashi- …can I call you Sapphire instead?”

 

She fidgets, head bowed. “I’d prefer if you would call me Midori, please. I mean if it’s too much trouble-"

 

"Of course not!" I affirm her, taking care to keep her identity in mind. "Anyway, is there some place I can start, or..?"

 

"Well, here’s the basics so you don’t feel as lost as I did when I first arrived. Yes, this is all real, you’re awake. At least, this you is. Yes, we’re all still in an alternate universe far from home, and still exist in the same universe as our planets.”

 

There’s a window framing the outside, a patch of blue to break the golden walls. Midori points to it, grinning. “That’s where you want to be, once you’re tired of being cooped up in your room."

 

Standing on my tiptoes, I stretch myself to look beyond but without much luck. For some reason, I’m rather tentative about walking to the edge. “You’ve been down there?”

 

“I’ve had enough time to interact with the locals and stuff. Not much, but I have a rough idea of how things work."

 

We haven’t even been in this new universe for five days, and Midori already seems to have had at hours upon hours worth of touring this land. "How long have you… been here?” I ask, trying to do the math in my head.

 

"I’ve been here the longest, I guess,” she shrugs. "If my memory serves me correctly, I was here even before I woke up on my land. But at the time it all seemed nothing like a silly recurring dream, even as I explored the moon and the planet and interacted with its inhabitants. Then Nozomi-senpai woke up. That’s how I knew that it couldn’t be a dream, at least not in the technical, usual sense."

 

Ah, of course there are more of us here.

 

"There are six of us here, and you're the third to ‘wake up’, so to speak. And judging from the numbers, there’s probably another mirror planet of sorts with the other six. I haven’t really had the chance to discuss with the others, though."

 

Wake up? Oh.... oh. I think I get it now.

 

"So this is another body, and my… original one is still asleep back on my planet in my room, right?"

 

"In essence, yeah. Any more about this place, and you should go find out yourself."

 

Midori floats to the window's edge, invites me to follow, and gestures towards the picture of blue beyond.

 

"Welcome to Prospit, the kingdom of light.”

 

[♪] [Skies of Skaia - Mark Hadley](https://homestuck.bandcamp.com/track/skies-of-skaia-2) [♪]

 

A peek out the window, and I see that I'm on top of a tower, one of many spires jutting out of the ground. My sphere-shaped room mirrors itself with the minuscule planet I’m on, small enough that I can make out its curvature even from my height. At a second glance, my ‘planet’ is connected to a much larger one by a huge chain - that’s what I call a planet. Prospit. And everything’s gleaming gold, so much so that the backdrop of blue comes as a pleasant contrast.

 

Said backdrop of blue is almost magical, the roads of clouds mapping it seeking to clarify rather than distort. It’s huge - so much larger than Prospit it’s like an ocean and the golden globe is but a beachball floating in it. This must be the planet analogous to the Sun, and the light it emanates is kind and calm. Even so, the sheer scope of it all fills me with unbridled wonder.

 

It's an amazing sight, and I feel like my world's opened up just a bit more.

 

Whether Prospit is part of some shared dream-verse, a lighthouse in the ocean of collective subconscious or simply another physical location in this universe - which means that I'm literally in a cloned body of myself - doesn't seem to matter now. Midori's words lean towards the latter, but more and more I find myself wanting to share this world with my friends. I want to explore derelict alleyways with Aoi, haggle for hypothetical trinkets with hypothetical store-vendors with Asuka, gaze upon the city from a high watchtower and hear the morning bells with Kaori.

 

But I'm getting ahead of myself, if they're not yet awake. I face Midori again, who's happily content in her corner of the room.

 

"Alright," I say, as much to Midori as an affirmation to myself. "But Midori, I have one more question… if you’ll allow me."

 

"Sure," she grins. "If it’s not particularly spoilery."

 

"I don't think it is. Well um, how do I get out of here?"

 

Midori looks at me like the answer couldn't be more obvious. She points towards the small window, the only opening in this dome of a room.

 

"Ummm," I stutter, backing up. "Yeah sure, but is there a ladder, or..?"

 

Midori floats even higher now and I almost have to strain my neck. She stares at me like I'm daft, and with each inch she rises I find myself at the butt of a bad joke. 

 

"Oh. Oh I- you- ...you can't possibly be insinuating-"

 

"Yes I am!" she claps her hands together, now lowering herself now that I've caught her hint.

 

I gesture helplessly towards her. "How are you flying?"

 

"Mm?" Midori yawns, like I couldn't have asked something more boring. "Well, you should try it for yourself."

 

"How?" I stress again, trying to make it apparent that I'm someone who has never floated before, like every other normal person.

 

Midori ponders for a moment, deep in thought. She looks like a fish teaching a sparrow how to swim, struggling over a chasm of incommensurable talent. Then she snaps her fingers like it's the easiest thing in the world, before gliding out of the window.

 

"Come, follow me!"

 

"Are- are you sure?!"

 

"Don’t look, don’t think. Just follow me!”

 

I squeeze my eyes shut as I feel for the edge of the window, putting one foot up. Oh no, oh damn, I know how high it is, and it’s paralysing to even think about leaning out-

 

“Give me your hand!”

 

On instinct, I reach out, and a pair of petite hands hold me, gentle and patient and forgiving.

 

“One step at a time. Come on!”

 

With my left hand gripping the window edge for dear life, my right in Midori’s and my left leg balancing on the window sill, my remaining limb stretches outwards, the soles of my feet landing on nothing, nothing to hold me up, nothing solid-

 

“You’re almost there, Haruka-senpai! Slowly let go of the window…"

 

My eyes are sealed tight, a searing orange the only thing amidst the foggy black as I take deep breaths. I do what I can to trust Midori, to have faith in life and all its miracles, dreaming of my bed and falling backwards into it-

 

"Just one more step…”

 

I’m on the precipice now, and with each measured breath I shuffle forwards, my foot peek out… halfway out… a shimmy back in… it’s not so much as _one more step_ , than many smaller movements, sliding ever so slightly towards uncertainty...

 

And then, I’m out. There’s nothing beneath me, and I yank on Midori’s hand like a lifebuoy thrown at me. 

 

But, I’m not falling.

 

Slowly but surely, I open up my eyes, letting gold and blue and white fill my vision, and there I am, floating above a freaking planet, and oh wow…

 

What a marvellous view from up here.

 

My eyes sting, and it’s with joy as tears cloud up my view, and I wipe them with my knuckles, because here I am, asleep and awake, cast into another world of dreams beyond my fickle and mundane imagining. It’s all so much and I feel so small and so large, like here’s another piece of the puzzle with my name written on it, like there’s a place for me in all this, and I feel so honoured.

 

I’m floating, dang it, and I’m alive.

 

What a moment to be alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New arc, new things!  
> We're back onto characters who aren't Kumiko, and expect to see a whole lot more of Not Kumiko in this arc to come.  
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy my story of floating girls in golden cities.


	24. Somnum Lux 2.1.1.2 (Haruka)

[♪] [Skaia Ad Infinitum - Andromeda's Cadre](https://unofficialmspafans.bandcamp.com/track/skaia-ad-infinitum) [♪]

 

The view from outside my window instills a kind of transcendent calm unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. My planet is pretty breathtaking, but this takes the cake. It’s the kind of scale that Prospit assumes when viewed from afar, and just maybe I can understand how the astronauts must’ve felt the first time they went into space. The first time they viewed Earth from the Moon.

 

So large and so small, awesome in the true sense of the word. A golden globe lionised by its scruffy mane of intricate buildings.

 

That’s not even to speak of the even larger, blue planet that hangs just above us. Prospit with reference to it is like the Earth to our Sun back home, if Earth was right next to the Sun, with this nebulous mass of sky substituting as the literal center of this solar system. A promise of adventure and nirvana, enlightenment and truth taken form in just how much light in radiates. Not piercing, but pleasing to the eyes, a tempest of salvation that seems to encapsulate peace.

 

It’s the realm of gods in the heavens above, and I feel unworthy despite how inviting it is. I cast my gaze back downwards, content with the present.

 

Prospit's Moon rests like a golden goose egg in the cosmic nest of our session. But as the residence for the ‘Heroes', it remains sparsely inhabited. 

 

The action’s on Prospit itself, and the chain keeping the moon in its orbit acts as a road of sorts, wide enough that you could put train tracks on it to shuttle people to and fro. As per Midori’s advice, I attempt a balancing act of sorts on the horizontal side of the chain, which is an awful lot of fun in space, when there really isn’t a direction for up or down. It’s disorienting, but dizzily amazing, especially when hair physics don't seem to make sense and work to your favour. What is gravity, right?

Getting used to letting loose is a welcome problem I'm happy to address. 

 

I reach the bustling city before I can prepare myself for it, and it's beyond anything I can expect. Prospit is a city, country, nation and planet all on its own, a civilisation in the smack middle out of Disney and Ghibli, yet one that seems to mimic and mirror our own. Most architecture seems medieval, almost gothic, with elaborate, towering cathedrals dominating the cityscape. Each building is a blend of the ancient and modern, holding its own weight in significance with a kind of reverence about them.

 

The streets are straight from a romantic european fairytale, laden with cobbled roads, brick-and-mortar shops sprouting from the pavement, each with their quirky, antique signs. Walking down each lane, I’m greeting with pleasant surprise after another, water wheels and wells existing in tandem with electric lampposts and engine-powered vehicles. 

 

Have I mentioned that everything's in gold? Yeah, everything's pretty much gold. It's a Prospit thing.

 

And it’s a travesty to leave their inhabitants unmentioned. They’re undoubtedly an alien race of sorts, but human enough that it feels normal to mingle amongst them. Their skins are whiter than Hokkaido snow, tougher than a beetle’s shell and smoother than pearls. While most are around my height like an average human, they can be as short as my waist or taller than door frames. They’re just like stick figures but more filled out, keeping the minimalistic idea behind generic beings.

 

That’s not to say that they’re lacking in diversity, because what a combination of shapes and sizes they come in! Just like any other species, each individual is unique yet identifiable as a member of a larger family.

 

They seem to recognize me instantly. When I first arrived, they noticed and they looked, but seemed respectful of my privacy and gave a berth wide enough such that I didn’t get anxious but didn’t feel alienated. But now as I gradually find my rhythm, I’m greeted with polite waves, and whispers abound, more heated as I enter the thick of the crowd.

 

“It’s the Sylph!”

 

“Good day to you, young lady.”

 

“Dear Sylph, if you ever need any assistance, it’s no trouble at all.”

 

“Excuse me, miss.”

 

I find myself to be way more self conscious than usual, constantly tucking hair behind my ear. Gosh, is this what being a celebrity feels like, when none of your fans are obnoxious?

 

Each step is light, not just because my head’s in the clouds, but because I’m half floating, skipping on thin air. Being off the ground almost becomes a reflex action and the people don’t seem to mind even though they don’t seem capable of floating themselves. But Prospit’s a party on its own - not the modern kind with flashing lights and jumping about even though it kinda feels like that. Everything’s just fun and carefree, and being amongst others just makes me feel a tad giddy with delight.

 

“Miss Sylph?”

 

While looking at a pastry stand and wondering if Asuka would like the coffee buns here, I feel a light tug at the base of my dress. Looking down, there’s a child, looking up expectant with beady eyes.

 

“Yes?”

 

She (he? they? best to identify them as they) is dressed like most of the common folk - elegant and simple monochrome robes, their silk spun from grey clouds with silver lining.   


 

I turn my attention towards them as I squat down to meet the child at eye level - a child who’s no more than three feet tall. A tint of rosy blush forms on their cheek before they present to me a flower crown they were hiding behind their back, putting it on my head. 

 

The wreath fits, a tad tight but the flowers are soft enough that it still feels snug. It tousles my hair and causes some to fall over my fringe, and the child reaches out to play with them. I let them, because as hairless beings, such trivialities would tend to draw their curiosity. They are gentle and don’t yank down, which is really nice of them.

 

When they’re done, I tuck the misplaced strands of hair behind my ear before thanking them. They beam back, giving a little twirl before bowing low. 

 

And then without warning, a huge swarm of Prospitian children swarm out an alley, rushing me and knocking me off my feet. I squeal as I fall backwards but there are a few already supporting my lower back, and I’m crowdsurfing all of a sudden, on the arms of an army of kids, and they holler as they march and parade me through the streets.

 

"Woah there! Careful..!” I shout, one hand one my flower crown to prevent it from slipping and another hand between my legs to push down my billowing dress for modesty. The children run, and I’m light enough that I stay just above their fingertips, sailing through their hands such that the ride isn’t as bumpy and uncomfortable as it could’ve been. It also makes it easier on them since I weight next to nothing, and the whole ludicrous affair’s allowed to be as enjoyable as it is.

 

Yeah... this does feel like a party, but I’m no longer the awkward guest in a corner. I’ve become the center of attention but… I don’t feel as abashed as I thought I’d be? There isn’t the pressure of the entire band staring at you, listening for instructions, their morale hinging on every word you say. Which is such a weird analogy but that shows how much band’s been on my mind. But with these children who don’t seem to give a care about my actions as long as they’re kind of having fun with me… it’s liberating.

 

It’s freedom that I never thought I’d experience so soon, and I allow my shoulders to drop as I laugh with them, careening through Prospit’s roads.

 

The party crowd roars as we storm the street, many other Prospitians giving way to the rowdy children, many of them grinning and saluting and waving at me as we go past. It doesn’t take long before I notice noise coming from another group, and looking up, I see another human in the distance, the skin tone far too familiar and standing out from the sea of white around her.

 

Despite having let her hair down, it is the unmistakeable figure of Kasaki Nozomi. She has a child hauled over her shoulders, also surrounded by others of their kind. They’re playing a game, where Nozomi’s the ‘mother hen’ with a whole bunch of children and others who look larger than children hiding behind her in a straight line, and a single player attempts to catch those behind Nozomi.

 

My group barrels straight into them, disrupting the game but also extending the chain behind Nozomi, and I bring myself back to my feet as activity bustles around us. I give her a sheepish wave at my entrance, and the Prospitians surround us in celebration.

 

"Hey, President,” she grins, as she lets the child down. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

 

“It has,” I reply, watching as Nozomi pats the head of a child and having to peel off another one from her waist. “I see you have your hands full.”

 

“Not for long.” 

 

Nozomi lifts herself skyward, sending a bout of complains from below as the children try to reach her, but she’s commanding enough such that they give her a wide enough berth when she lands again, looking at us both in anticipation.

 

She also eyes me carefully, a pregnant pause forming on her lips as she seems to come to a decision. And then she turns away from me, looking back a little as she gestures me to follow.

 

"Let’s walk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prospit and prospitians. what a lovely place.
> 
> because of procrastination, i've officially burned through all my buffer and the story's update schedule has caught up to where i've finished writing. it's be a slow few weeks for me but i'm starting up the engines and hopefully i'll be able to sustain the schedule i've set for myself. things might get hectic so i hope you'll bear with me, and thank you once again for reading my story.


	25. Somnum Lux 2.1.1.3 (Haruka)

[♪] [A Lunar Interlude - Griffin McElroy](https://griffinmcelroy.bandcamp.com/track/bonus-a-lunar-interlude) [♪]

 

The children are upset when Nozomi asks for privacy, but despite their huffing and wailing, they leave us to our own devices pretty quick, and we give them a farewell wave as Nozomi leads me down more yellow brick roads.

 

“It’s nice to be able to talk to you again, Ogasawara-san.”

 

“Oh, no need to be a stranger, Nozomi.” I trail behind her quite a bit, which means I have to raise my voice to be heard. Her strides wider than mine even though I’m taller, and upon noticing this, she slows down. “Haruka’s always going to be fine."

 

The last time I had properly talked to Nozomi, it had been right before the… big upset. It’s a bit awkward now, considering that I spearheaded the faction for staying while she was trailblazer for those who left. 

 

If she hadn’t quit, she’d be well on her way to becoming my successor. She has the charisma and the mettle, without the fooling around Asuka usually does. I’d have picked her in a heartbeat, and there wouldn’t be any disapprovals. But as things stand now...

 

“Well, I just wanna clear things upfront then… Haruka.”

 

It takes her considerable effort to address me by my first name, but that’s the guilt doing its work. I don’t… want her to feel bad. She had her own reasons, and it was a wake up slap that the band leadership had to change drastically when I took over. And while it hasn’t been a smooth sailing term, I’ve managed to learn a ton - even if it comes with the undue baggage of a truck load of stress. I just can’t find it in me to hold it against her, even though we have our differences.

 

“I’m sorry for defecting,” she continues, putting it plain and simple without mincing her words. “And I’m not just saying this because I heard that you all now have a new advisor who’s great and all, with the whole band being serious and the kind of environment I would want to play in… It was a shitty, selfish thing for me to do, and I hope we can put all that behind us. We’re all on the same side now, right?”

 

She laughs, as though she just told a joke. To say Nozomi said that only for herself would be inaccurate. As much as I would’ve liked to have already put the past behind me… it doesn’t just happen like that. Sure, her apology’s mostly to get things off her chest, but I have a cathartic release myself, the weight of a year’s worth of anxiety lessened.

 

And I’m genuinely grateful for that.

 

“Thank you, Nozomi.”

 

Nozomi gives me a relieved smile, trudging onwards with her hands in the pockets of her gown - pockets I don’t seem to find, but then again I’ve never put my hands in my pockets before. There’s a whistle of steam from a nearby chimney, and Nozomi’s own whistling clashes with the sound, before she adjusts it to match its pitch in harmony.

 

“You know,” I say, twiddling with my thumbs behind my back. “This is all really nice. The lack of responsibilities and all.”

 

“What do you mean?” Nozomi cocks her head backwards, stretching her arms above her head. “You do know that the stakes here are exponentially higher than back at home, right? If anything, we’re more responsible-“

 

“I don’t mean it in that way,” I reply, shaking my head, trying to form a clearer picture of my thoughts. “It’s more of the fact that I don’t have to be a leader here anymore… which seems silly, I know, but without the band it’s like the whole burden of being President’s just been lifted off my shoulders…”

 

The road turns into a tighter alleyway, and although I’m not claustrophobic, the air seems to feel a bit more suffocating. Now Nozomi and I are pretty much alone, and somehow that gives me a greater sense of security. "I was never much of a leader to begin with,” I chuckle, stretching my fingers. “And while I know that the other juniors can’t seem to divorce me from my role yet, my role is redundant here, and so is my leadership. For once I don’t have to worry about taking charge - I can just be like one of you all, content in the background."

 

Nozomi stops walking, and spins around to face me. “Hold it. You know that we’re going to try to get back home, and then you’ll go back to the concert band and you’ll be the President again, right?"

 

“Well, yeah?” I say, unconvinced. I dawdle around a little, not wanting to see Nozomi’s expression. “Maybe..? I don’t know. We might never go back, and isn’t this a chance for change anyway?”

 

“Not in this way. We need your strengths more than ever, Haruka."

 

“What strengths? I don’t have many good qualities beyond being somewhat nice… and that’s just the mark of a decent person, which is almost everyone.” I find the strength in my words to face Nozomi head on. "You know I never really wanted the role. That batch only chose me because I was unassuming and non-threatening, after Asuka turned it down."

 

Bad choice, making eye contact with her. Nozomi’s stare is as imposing and intimidating as… it’s the scariest thing I’ve had to do in a while. 

 

"Then why did you take up the role if you’re just going to be a sub-par President?”

 

[♪] [20 Years Gone - Griffin McElroy ](https://soundcloud.com/griffinmcelroy/20-years-gone)[♪]

 

Ouch. 

 

Don’t cry, Haruka. Don’t let Asuka have the delight of resetting the cry-counter. Don’t…

 

Well, at least I can see Kaori’s nice calligraphy as she erases the 9 and chalks in a 0. Her zero is the prettiest zero to bless the earth.

 

Balling up my fists, I scrunch up the edges of my dress as Nozomi continues grilling me. "If you don’t want to do things right, why do it at all? There are many others in your year that would’ve wanted to do it, could’ve done it better."

 

"You’re not wrong,” I reply after taking a deep breath. "I don’t know. It just seemed like I couldn’t turn them down, and I like to think that I’ve given my best. After two years of being with them, I just wanted to give back, in whatever way I could. It felt like… a duty, you know?"

 

Nozomi stills seems unsatisfied, her arms now crossed. "You’re not beholden to a role you have no confidence for. I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m not exactly in a diplomatic mood. And right now, Haruka, you’re being a coward."

 

I wince as Nozomi’s verbal punches leave me emotionally battered, but not… that much? That should’ve stung more than it does, should’ve knocked the air right out of my gut, but somehow I don’t really feel it. The tears don’t come. I bite back any harsh insults about her leaving, about how she has no right to judge me as an outsider, but the way I see it, it just means that she can give it to me honestly.

 

And that’s refreshing. Even if in a brutal way.

 

"Perhaps. I don’t see myself as a brave person - I only took up the role for fear of rejecting it, which sounds silly considering I should’ve been more afraid of having to follow through with it.”

 

A rush of clarity bubbles through me, and recent memory gives me the courage to fight for what I want. "But just now, when I was with the Prospitian children? I’ve felt a kind of relief that I haven’t had all year, the kind of freedom that just sweeps you off your feet when you realise that you don’t have to care about anything, that you’re not accountable to anyone and that you really don’t have to worry.” A grin creeps onto my face just thinking about it. "It might be an illusion but I don’t want to spoil it. Not now. I just really want to rest now. I don’t need to be more tired than I was, than the whole situation at hand. And being a leader is tiring."

 

"Being a leader isn’t a switch you turn on and off when you can, just because you’re tired,” Nozomi argues, adamant. "It’s something you are, and that lives with you."

 

"I would tell you to be President first before talking,” I say. “But then again that doesn’t apply to you."

 

"In your defense, I believe that junior high and senior high can be wildly different."

 

"You don’t have to make me feel better,” I sigh. "I was never in the band in junior high, but seeing them compete now? Some of them are as competent and driven, perhaps more so than many schools in the senior category." 

 

Nozomi doesn’t correct me. "I’m not sorry for what I’m about to do,” I tell her. "Am doing. If we ever get back home… then yeah, I’ll become the President the band needs me to be. But right now? I want a break. I want to be allowed to be myself, be selfish. Especially with the stakes being so high - are you sure you want an incompetent leader at the forefront with the burden of twelve lives on her fragile back?"

 

"Incompetency is a state of mind,” she says, her voice flat.

 

"If you want to see me in a less selfish, less self-deprecating light, think of it as stepping away so that more capable people can take charge.” I gesture towards Nozomi. "Plus I never said I’d be slacking around and living in my own little bubble. I’ll help, and teamwork is always going to be much needed. I just really don’t think I should be the responsible one. I don’t _want_ to be the one responsible for all of us."

 

Having made our points, most of the tension dissolved, I decide to continue walking on, if just to shake off any residual anxiety and get the blood pumping back into my legs. Nozomi follows behind, and now we’ve exited the alleyway, the street opening wide and the cool breeze allowing for greater ventilation that sends happy chills down my back. But it’s a much quieter street, like a neighbourhood after sundown.

 

"I guess on that we can both agree on something,” Nozomi shrugs. "But I am disappointed."

 

"Not your job to be,” I wave off. "That’s Asuka-"

 

Before I know it I’m crouching, my face dangerously close to the ground, and I’m giddy enough I don’t even know how I got there. My face is wet and my breathing ragged, and oh gosh, I’m a mess, everything just hit me all at once.

 

I’m crying.

 

Nozomi has a hand on my shoulder, awkward in her idling but then she goes down on a knee, and hugs me tight. “There, there,” she comforts, in a way that’s genuine and not at all patronising considering what we just talked about. She’s a good kid through and through, even if we disagree on certain things.

 

But I guess I just kept too many things within me. And now that they’re spilling out, I feel a lot better, even if it feels kinda shitty that I’m crying - but a net positive overall, I guess. I know that crying isn’t a weakness but I can’t help but see it that way.

 

“Sorry,” I sniffle, hugging Nozomi tight. “I’m a real crybaby, you know? Kaori has to keep reminding me that I have to put up a brave face, but more often than not I’ll just break down in front of the others, and it’s so unbecoming and-"

 

“Hey,” Nozomi hushes me, patting my back. "I know it’s been hard on you. I’ve been there. And we all have our own ways of coping. It’s alright.”

 

“Thanks."

 

We take a moment in this position as I steady myself, sorting out my confused emotions and getting back on track. I guess in the end what affects me the most is the thought of my friends. The ones who do matter. And as quickly as they can wreck and sink me, they can keep me calm and afloat. They center me.

 

They’re alright.

 

I’m alright.

 

Nozomi helps me up to my shaky knees, and I dust the dirt off my dress. My tears have spilled onto Nozomi’s collar, but I mop up the bulk of it with the underside of my sleeves. Then we continue walking, now in silence, with the both of us closer to each other than before.

 

We don’t get more than a minute when something catches Nozomi’s eye, and she looks upward towards Prospit’s Moon. My mind’s wandering so I don’t turn my attention in time, but Nozomi seems to know what’s happening.

 

“Ah. The sleeping beauty’s awake.”

 

Nozomi takes out the scrunchy she had wrapped around her wrist as she proceeds to tie back her ponytail. “We can finally get the show on the road,” she tells me as she goes ahead, her steps more brisk, now with purpose.

 

I struggle to catch up. “What show are we starting?”

 

“Back when I first arrived,” Nozomi explains, now taking out a pocket mirror and aiming it back towards Prospit’s Moon. “I felt that the first logical thing to do was to talk to the leader of the kingdom. Given how we’re hailed as prophesied heroes, it only made sense.”

 

She flashes the mirror thrice, and then kicks off the ground, in full flight now. I attempt to do the same, but don’t get as high. Nozomi notices and helps me, taking a hold of my hand as she floats towards Prospit’s Moon with minimal effort. “So I requested an audience with the White Queen - who’s the one in charge here. Are you familiar with Prospit’s monarchy?”

 

I don’t get to shake my head as Nozomi remembers that I haven’t been awake for long, and Midori didn’t really mention anyone of the sort. “Well, she agreed that she’d see us, but only after a certain someone wakes up. Midori prefers to hang around the Moon, so I told her to signal me when our special guest comes to.”

 

Having gone straight to Prospit, I haven’t actually checked who the remaining three are. “I don’t mean to sound conceited, especially after what we’ve just talked about, but I’m a bit surprised it isn’t me. I would think that she’d want to talk to the leader, even if I’m just a figurehead."

 

“It really is strange, who she really wants to see,” Nozomi quips, and her eyes feel a bit darker than before. “But no matter. We can finally get answers from someone who should know exactly what’s going on in this universe.”

 

“Well then,” I ask, as we get closer and closer towards the moon. “Who’s the lucky girl who’s gotten the attention of Her Majesty?” I hope that the blotches staining my sleeves will dry up by the time we meet the rest.

 

Nozomi glances at me once, before grinning as though I’d never guess. She’s right, and while it’s not like the person in question isn’t qualified or anything, it’s just very… confusing. Confusing that she’d be singled out amongst all of us, when nothing about her seems to be very special, besides maybe her ‘royal’ disposition.

 

“Yuuko."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. This chapter ended up a lot longer than I had expected, but it’s an important chapter. Not that other chapters aren’t, but if y’all don’t already know Haruka is a very important character to me, and I really want to do her justice. It’s a bit heavy and some bits might hit hard, but I hope you enjoy my story nonetheless.
> 
> P.S The Adventure Zone is an excellent adventure/comedy podcast about three brothers and their dad playing Dungeons and Dragons, and I highly recommend it although you’ve probably already heard of it (http://www.maximumfun.org/shows/adventure-zone). The music for this chapter’s by the extremely talented Griffin McElroy who serves as the campaign’s dungeon master and his work on the show is phenomenal.


	26. Somnum Nox 2.2.1.1 (Natsuki)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we flip. welcome to the dark side (of the moon? no this joke doesn't work)
> 
> please please do read this with the music!

[♪] [Good Night - Toby Fox](https://soundcloud.com/angrysausage/toby-fox-undertale-soundtrack) [♪]

 

Comfy.

 

Purple mist like evening clouds, a tranquil, cool, undisturbed breeze. My cheek’s placed firmly against something that saps away all my energy, but in a good way. I feel at peace, at home.

 

At rest. A dream frolicking into slumber.

 

I open my eyes, just a peek, to get a sense of where I am. The room is a hypnotic purple, a pleasing lull of colours that take the warmth away and replace it with a chilly embrace. Nothing stands out besides a fluff of chestnut hair, and I lower my eyelids, letting sleep ease its way into…

 

Wait.

 

Kumiko?

 

No.

 

[♪] [Scream Into The Night - William Ascenzo](https://soundcloud.com/wellmanicuredman/scream-into-the-night) [♪]

 

_No._

 

I jolt right up, almost violent in how my senses sharpen at the incongruity of the situation. My eyes don’t play tricks on me, and that is the form of Kumiko not a few feet away from me, turned away and seemingly unconscious. Her body moves with her breath, so at least she isn’t dead. 

 

Well that’s a morbid thought. Can’t be helped, considering the past few days.

 

Only now do I zoom out to focus on our surroundings. My ‘dream’ of sorts hasn’t been completely psychedelic - true to form, my surroundings are the same hazy shade of purple. My heart hammers away in urgency. My chest tightens - instinctual claustrophobia as metal bars line the windows and door of our tiny room. We’re captives, in some sort of prison, and I know this isn’t going to end well.

 

Alarms blare off in the distance, a sharp warning that screams into my ears. The militant thumping of boots clambering outside my window. 

 

This must be Derse, the dark mirror to Prospit’s light that Nozomi told me about. The dream world that exists within reality.

 

What dumb luck.

 

I need to get out. Maybe I don’t, but I need to figure out what the heck is going on. Are we in danger? Is Kumiko just sleeping or did they do something to her? Did they do something to me? I pat myself down, realise that I’m not going to find any answers that way, and then promptly give up. I saunter myself to a corner of the cell, and then slump into despair. 

 

Why do I have to deal with this nonsense?

 

I guess this is where our roles flip, Nozomi and I. She gets the shit land, I get the shit dreamland. I’m not sure which one’s worse.

 

Clambering noises can be heard outside, and I’m just too tired to take a peek. But my heart’s as noisy, maybe noisier than whatever’s happening. I try to steady my emotions and thoughts, and move over to Kumiko, just to double confirm that she’s okay.

 

Vital signs are a go. Nothing really wrong with her, so I leave her be. Then I pick up the courage to peek out the grated window.

 

Except I can’t reach it.

 

The cell is empty, and the ceiling the height of a typical room. The window’s in the top fifth of the room, so pretty high up for someone like me who’s below average. Just jumping isn’t going to get me where I want to be.

 

I kick against the purple bricks lining the wall, heel first so I don’t smash my toes. It’s sturdy enough, without cracks in the cement that I can take advantage of to dislodge. No footholds. I’ll just have to do it like those YouTube videos.

 

The first try is as pathetic as anyone would expect. I slam myself without really getting off the ground, having trouble adjusting horizontal momentum upwards, because I’m not an athletic, acrobatic freak of nature who can wall run without practice. It hurts because I have to time my jump correctly if not I’ll crush my toes. I have to remember that running is just to gain enough energy to move upwards.

 

Up is where I want to go.

 

It takes me a good half an hour before I make any significant progress - of course interspersed with breaks. A lot of breaks. A good sixty percent I spend resting and thinking about how to proceed besides throwing myself like a dead fish onto a wall. Adjusting my muscles and wondering if muscle memory is even applicable in such a short span of time. But all I need is just a little bit more height, not ninja skills to scale the Great Wall of China.

 

All the while Kumiko sleeps like a happy baby. Good for her.

 

I miss and slip the window once, barely grazing my shin and swearing. A whole naughty bout of expletives. Forbidden, eldritch tongues vulgar and unknown to even the most phantasmagoric- okay I said fuck. Like twice.

 

Four more tries after that, and I nail it. My fingers dig into the brick like they’re nailed deep, and mustering all the upper body strength I have, do a measly pull-up that leaves my chest a scrunched up towel wrung dry of air. Back in my heyday I could do three.

 

What greets me is a sight too vast for my puny mind to comprehend in three seconds. Outside is just as purple as inside, a flurry of confusing shapes of varying shades due to a trick of light (because it’s all really the same fucking colour). It doesn’t help that any inhabitant in sight is a black humanoid which contrasts _so well_ against the purple backdrop that I totally don’t have to squint to make them out. Otherwise, all I see is a city like Victorian London on TV, way too gothic and edgy to exist in real life. The purple is giving me a headache.

 

I drop, the impact rattling my knees and threatening to accelerate my aging process. I realise the uselessness of what I just did, because how the heck would knowing the landscape of this purple hell in any way help me to escape the confines of this stinky cellar cube?

 

This is frustrating. And silly. Just for kicks, I walk open to my prison door and give it a good kick. I regret it at once, and decide that I’ve tortured my feet enough for one day. As I buckle in pain, I fall forward, left hand against the door and the other grasping the doorknob for stability.

 

My right hand seems to glow for a moment, faint white threads flaking off my fingertips. 

 

The doorknob seems to buckle under my strain, and there’s a nasty metallic ‘clunk’ sound. I swear I can’t have put enough strength to break the freaking thing, but it seems to have come loose. With caution, I push the door out an inch. It moves.

 

Holy shit. I’m free. We’re free. Just like that?

 

That’s a miracle if I haven’t seen one.

 

I nudge the door just another creak. And then another. I peek around the corner, finding a long stretch of other prison cells, with no one in sight. Perfect. I glance back at Kumiko to think about how I’m going to move her, before looking back out before to check one last time before I close my door and formulate a plan of escape.

 

And then, bright alarms blaze out of nowhere, this one closer than before but still distant, and before I can react I hear the stomping of boots and find that in my haste to slam the door, my foot’s still in the way, jamming it, and l stumble forward and outwards in pain, in plain glorious view for anyone to see. 

 

Guards round the corner on both sides of the corridor - black humanoid people all decked out in armour, carrying spears and swords and shields. They shout an incoherent gargle of intimidation, and I know that I'm royally fucked over.

 

I raise both hands as I slowly retreat back inside with a bad limp. I can't deal with this bullshit.

 

What a moment to be alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the first time i've tried a music gag (if you didn't listen then i'm sorry!!) and somewhat tried parallels between chapters? read 2.1.1.1 if you have no idea what i'm talking about... okay maybe it isn't that obvious.
> 
> but yes, this arc is split into two halves, exploring the prospit and derse dreamers respectively. so essentially, a dreamselves' arc. thank you for reading my story, and i hope you stay around for more.
> 
> p.s somnum lux directly translates to 'sleep' and 'light' and nox is obviously 'night'... which doesn't really make sense besides the fact that it's cooler this way and it all rhymes or something. yay latin!
> 
> p.p.s i know that the windows in the derse and prospit prisons are technically big and head level but i just wanted natsuki to wall run upwards so. (the whole point of these kinds of windows is ventilation and natural light, neither of which exist in dreamland)


	27. Somnum Nox 2.2.2.1 (Aoi)

[♪] [Time Gear - Arata Iiyoshi](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2s3uLEmw8fM) [♪]

 

I’m here again.

 

The purple is unmistakeable, a shade brighter and more menacing than the ones nightfall casts on the icy peaks of my planet.

 

In the beginning, coming here was a reprieve. Get away from the freezing, from the misery of shivering and broken electric heaters. It’s nice under the Dersite sheets, a quiet away from the howling wind, winter wolves that skirt through the chilling air and nip at your heels with frostbitten fangs. I’d shiver myself to sleep just so that I could end up here, away from an alien home that had been taken from me. The Land of Winter and Polygons doesn't exactly inspire trust and friendship.

 

But now, even this haven is lost. They took me, confined me, and my cell feels colder than the sub-zero garden outside my front door, even if only in spirit. I’m used to loneliness, but this kind of solitary confinement takes its toll on the mind and soul.

 

It hadn’t always been this way. Being first, I still have memories of thoughtful reprieve, never mind that I’m a dreamer of the kingdom of darkness. Light and dark are arbitrary, and the Dersites don’t seem like evil beings, even if they’re predisposed towards chaos and destruction. They treated me right.

 

Then Asuka woke, and she caused enough of a ruckus that the authorities started to take notice. Young Kousaka opened her eyes third, and then the next time I opened mine, I was stuck here. I have not seen them both but can only imagine they face similar situations. The powers that be do not seem content to allow us free reign.

 

Between all that, Yoroizuka stayed, and then Yoroizuka left. Disappeared. Her sleeping body almost a missing corpse, and I haven’t seen her since I poked my head into her window after Asuka popped out of hers. The remaining two euphoniums stayed blissfully unaware of their plight in dreamless slumber.

 

History repeats and history informs. Introspection into the past helps make these meditative moments productive, even as I struggle to make meaning out of madness. I relegate energy and mind space towards asking the real questions. What is this game for? What are our functions? Mechanically, how is all this designed to fit the bigger picture, whatever the bigger picture is? What purpose does Derse and its inhabitants serve? What about their counterparts? What are their motivations, and how does this all play out? How does that connect to why I'm stuck here? Why do we even have dreamselves?

 

I don't see myself as dull or unintelligent just because I’m not as quick-witted as Asuka. I can't afford to see myself that way, because that would be placing value in speed, and treating life like a race, and I can't always be chasing others, keeping up with them when I’m naturally slow. That's not the game I'm willing to play, not something I'm willing to stake my self worth on. If I can get the job done in the end, it doesn't matter. Each to their own pace. All I need is time is come into my own.

 

And in here, I have an abundance of time.

 

My memory’s not that good, but I’ve spent enough time in Derse to retain certain bits of information that might help. I cycle through them, hoping that my imagination - which in this case I thankfully don't have much of - doesn't fill in false blanks, doesn't paint pictures prettier or more bleak than reality. 

 

What did I feel when I first stepped into the lunar enclaves, a dozen pair of beady white eyes trained on me as I attempted to introduce myself? The Dersites introduced themselves with wariness and a snigger, a knowing glance hinting an inside joke I should know about? An inside joke I am a part of? I don’t know. They seemed to cooperate with me, treating me right, but obedience comes from respect or fear. Which applies to me?

 

My gut tells me it is a sliding scale of both.

 

How did the people react to Asuka? They hid their displeasure less, with little patience for her boisterous fanfare. Yet they gave her a wide berth, an annoyance. But some didn’t seem to mind… did they? I can’t really remember. I can’t really tell.

 

More and more details swim towards the surface. How did they treat me during my last waking moments before I was captured? Compared to two days before, three days before? I attempt to sync up my mental timelines, matching similarities and drawing differences. Being patient and making sure that each possibility is explored, given time and space to mature before being left to one side, a garden of thoughts I tend to and weed out. Each towards an unknown conclusion, each thought sprouting one after another, and I care for each one while taking into account the others.

 

Here comes a thought.

 

A thought.

 

Thought.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Thought?

 

Scuffling noises break me from my meditative trance, but I don't break my crossed legged pose. There are two loud thuds, one clearly against my door, and I hear intense, hushed words being exchanged before the door bolts open. A dark figure slouches backwards and slumps towards the floor as the doorway frames none other than Tanaka Asuka and Kousaka Reina.

 

"The other guards will appear any second now," says Kousaka, her voice calm as she prods the fallen guard with her foot. "Please make this quick."

 

"Hey Aoi!" Asuka waves as she skips over the body. "Glad to see us?"

 

I groan at her demented smile. Now's really not the time for jokes-

 

"It was really tough you know," Asuka continues, twirling on the spot. "Having to get through all those guards. But Reina here's been a great help, and now we're gonna bust you outta here!"

 

"How did you know where to find me?"

 

Asuka taps the side of her head. "Easy. I just know."

 

Kousaka raps her knuckles against the door twice, peering over her shoulder to look out.

 

"We gotta go get the rest as well," Asuka sings, hands behind her back, not elaborating any further on my question. "My dear euphoniums are waiting for me you know!"

 

"Did you think this through, Asuka?" I ask, wringing my hands. "Orchestrating a jailbreak when we don't have the slightest clue of what's going on is-"

 

Alarms go off, wailing in the distance, and I can see tight-lipped urgency dawn on Kousaka’s face, her last feeble attempt at keeping a facade of composure.

 

"Well, hurry up, hurry up!" Asuka gestures. "We don't have all of the time in the world."

 

Between Kousaka's pained expression as she holds the door open and Asuka's near fanatical glee, I sigh. Looks like we're taking the highway.

 

"Alright," I exhale, my grin bitter with a tinge of sadness as Asuka helps me up, and we begin the sprint out of my cell and into the Dersite corridors.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaand the jailbreak begins. derse looks way more exciting and and a million times shittier!
> 
> give aoi some love. also do note that if we're following timelines right, she hasn't quit the band yet, although she's very close to. she's already had a lot of time to think about it and has probably already told haruka her intentions but not quite made it official yet. might seem completely irrelevant to this story but given that this is literally 90% of what i have from canon to mold her from... it's a good reminder to know what kind of headspace she's in right now.


	28. Somnum Nox 2.2.3.1 (Reina)

[♪] [Violent Delights - Ramin Djawadi](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5UCwXjVPbXw) [♪]

 

The first stretch of corridor is empty, and I match Asuka’s strides easily - she keeps herself fit, but I am still the better runner.

 

That being said, she chuckles like an elementary kid playing catching across the soccer field. Like this is all some game.

 

"Would you stop pretending to be so cheerful?” I ask her. "It's unsettling, given our situation."

 

"Someone has to be the optimist,” she snaps back, flashing another of her signature smiles that gives away nothing. “If I bring my game face to the poker table, you’ll pick up the slack right?"

 

I roll my eyes, keeping my focus straight ahead and bent on not humouring her. But the next ten seconds passes in an eerie silence, the feeling of being watched making the back of my neck crawl. Sure enough, when I glance towards Asuka, she’s giving me a stare that enforces how dead serious she is in her statement. I’m expected to follow through.

 

With a heavy heart, I part my reluctant lips to show her the most unconvincing, toothy smile. Asuka nods once before her face relaxes into a normal expression, eyeing the next bend that’s coming up.

 

"I really hope you have a plan,” I mutter, loud enough that she can hear.

 

Asuka claps once, moving away from me as we reach the corner. “I do. I think so. Heads up!”

 

Two stationary guards seem ready for us with their weapons drawn, assuming a combative stance, but are still surprised when we appear. Asuka immediately goes low, and I don’t break my stride, summoning all the air I can and launching it at them. They topple from the force, and I draw as much as I can from their lungs, enough to knock them out from asphyxiation without killing them. 

 

Suffocation sucks, but with limited resources this is the most efficient way. The air in these hallways are so stale, there’s not much for me to work with.

 

By the time Aoi rounds the corner it’s all over, and we continue running.

 

Back to my earlier train of thought, I wonder and worry about Asuka’s plan. She’s the one taking point after all, the directions and strategy coming from her and working well so far, no doubt due to her ability. She’s the most competent and calculating of us all, yet I can’t shake off my doubts, because pulling this? The rate of success is very low, and I won’t take failure for an answer.

 

“Just so you know, hiding out in the moon is a terrible idea,” I continue, loud enough without losing my breath. "If the authorities are bent on smoking us out they can and will.”

 

Asuka keeps up with the conversation. “Yes, I know that, but I’m interested at how you came to that conclusion. Do tell."

 

"Derse and its moon are hollow at their core,” I start, the answer ready at the back of my mind. “Which means that they have little matter, which means they lack mass, which means that they have much less gravitational pull than you'd imagine. The only thing tethering Derse's moon into orbit is the chain, and I've heard it's very breakable. We'll be left floating into the Furthest Ring, lost to space and time, never to return."

 

She nods with the sagely understanding that none of this is new information to her, but refreshing nonetheless.

 

"That's one reason why flying seems so simple for us,” I continue. “Much like how astronauts can leap on the moon, and… you knew that I’d love talking about this, didn’t you?” The realisation that I’ve been baited leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

 

Asuka smirks, and it’s such a patronising, condescending expression that for a split second I want to strangle her. “It doesn’t take much effort at all to realise that you’re a nerd too, Reina-chan.”

 

I scowl at her remark, and look to our back to change my mind’s focus. By now, Aoi’s easily a good fifteen meters behind, and I start to slow down a notch.

 

“Saitou-senpai might not be able to bridge the gap, if we keep up this pace. We should stick together, if not she might be caught again-“

 

“Don’t mind her,” Asuka dismisses. “She’s never really been fast, but she’ll catch up. Aoi’s fine."

 

I frown, ready to argue but Asuka doesn't give me a chance to breathe. The purple corridor opens into a lift landing ahead, and a small platoon of guards are already waiting for us. They are bunched up towards the back of the room, glaring at us with their weapons at the ready.

 

"This will require teamwork," Asuka hollers. "You up for it?"

 

She skids to a halt ten meters from the end of the corridor, and I barely manage to stop myself, running into her outstretched arm. Without hesitation, she takes off one of her shoes, half throwing, half sliding them across the floor. 

 

"Now!"

 

Her shouting can be interpreted as a host of many commands, given that we've never actually established any signals, or had any real preparation. But on instinct, I push my hands forward, summoning as much wind to the front as I can, draining a great deal of energy out of me.

 

The second her shoe crosses over into the lift landing, there's an explosion - a tripwire, of course - but the billowing smoke that should've clouded the corridor gets funneled back towards the guards by my gust. 

 

And then without warning, Asuka tackles me to the ground, her hand on the back of my head as I'm forced prone. A split second later, poorly aimed arrows and spears come vaulting out from the smoke, scattering and clattering around us.

 

I strain my neck to glance at Aoi. She's shaken, but flushed towards the side of the walls. No harm done.

 

"Up. Quick." Asuka doesn't mince her words, her voice low in my ear. "Half of them are disarmed, but the smoke will clear out through the windows soon." Establishing urgency but also alerting me to another revenue of air. Good economy of words. 

 

"There's also a column of air you can use from the elevator shaft," she says, as though reading my mind. By now she's gotten up, and I'm rising to my feet, shrugging off the bruises. "Take the right. There's eight of them. I'll go left."  


 

And then we're off. Asuka freaking trips me just as I enter the smoke cloud, but only to help me avoid slamming into a guard attempting to run out. As I stumble, Asuka trips them as well, and I don't check to see what happens next. I close my eyes to prevent any irritation from the smoke.

 

Patches of ground are still burning to the touch from the blast, and the walls charred black with soot. The scalding air cools rapidly as I swirl the heat around me. I have an advantage given how I can sense my surroundings through the air, not impeded by vision like everyone else. Grabbing the nearest guard by the scruff of their collar, I slam them into another.

True to form, the lift shaft gives me a lot more of my element to work with, but the drawback is that it'll disperse the smoke and I'll lose my upper hand. I gotta disable as many as I can, fast.

 

Reaching out, I attempt to stimulate forced inhalation of smoke on three more guards, creating swirling spheres of black that bubble their heads. I sense them crumple, falling over or to their knees, and wait for their laboured breathing to highlight their unconsciousness before I release them. 

 

A hand grips my shoulder and I attempt to throw it off, but to no avail. The elevator shaft acts as a nozzle to my cannon, and I launch a cylinder of air that curves around to brush off my assailant. As I move my fists slog someone else in the face, and I don't check for injuries. More air enters through the grilled windows but that only means vision's being restored to the rest.

 

I myself stand in a spotlight of fresh air, opening my eyes to assess the situation anew. Of the eight I've been tasked to handle, five are down for the count. Three more remain in varying levels of consciousness. One is picking themselves up from the floor and two more grope through the smoke to reach me.

 

Expending all my energy now by straining my abilities would be unwise. I walk over to one, knee them in the stomach, before bringing down both fists in a hammer to the back of their head as they double over in pain. It doesn't quite knock them out, which sucks for the both of us. I deliver one more strike with my elbow to their temple as they straighten up. Pain shoots up my arm as the guard spins and falls. Two more.

 

Too late. 

 

A guard grabs me from behind, putting me into a headlock and threatening to strangle me. If they'd been armed, this would've gone very bloody very quickly. Their hold is strong and their skin tough, and I'm stuck in place even as I kick and flail.

 

The last guard who had been crawling on the ground now rises to full height, a dagger in one hand. With a righteous bellow, they charge me, and I'm forced to push them back. Finding that I don't have enough energy, I make a last ditch effort, shooting air from the ground with the intention of forming a wall for the guard to run into. It doesn't quite work that way, instead delivering an uppercut to the chin that knocks them out. Same outcome, but my mind is seized with a throbbing pain that I go limp in my other assaillant's arms for a moment. My neck no longer flexing, I find myself gasping for air, windpipe constricted even as I try to push wisps through.

 

Then the guard suffocating me drops, and I'm left coughing and reeling, my eyes watering. It's Asuka, of course, having removed her other shoe, using it to clobber her opponents.

 

"And here I thought you could get all eight," she teases as she pats my back to prevent me from choking. Looking at her side of the room, she took down the four she had allocated to herself, plus the one on mine. Very equal distribution of responsibility.

 

I steady myself, glaring at Asuka between my gasps. "Maybe next time, it'd be better to share with us what's gonna happen since you seem to know _everything_."

 

"Hey, it worked out, didn't it?” she shrugs. "No need to frazzle you with the details."

"I think that just shaved off a good two years off my life," Aoi pants from the corridor, despite having not contributed anything.  


"I nearly died," I hiss, but Asuka doesn't seem to care as she punches a button next to the elevator shaft.

 

"We're on the third level now and the other two are on the second,” she explains, waiting for the lift. "The squad we just took out came up from their cell, so its unguarded for now. The window of opportunity is narrow, but we'll make it to Natsuki and Kumiko."

 

The lift ascends to our level and Asuka moves forward to open the scissor gate. "How do you do that?” I ask her. "Telepathy? Precognition?"

 

She understands that I’m asking about her ability. "I’m afraid it isn’t quite that simple,” Asuka deflects, but there is a certain weariness in her eyes. "It’d take me a long time to explain the intricate details to-"

 

"No, I’m serious.” I stop her from getting into the lift, holding firm onto her arm. No more bullshitting around. "If we’re going to work together, we need to know how each other’s abilities work. Mine’s not exactly subtle, with all my cards on the table. But you’ve developed your abilities faster than anyone else and yet they’re still a mystery. Having an understanding of yours would be a great asset moving forward.”

 

Asuka doesn’t flinch, calmly attempts unhooking my fingers and failing before sighing. “It’s precog, but not what you think. Get in the lift, I’ll elaborate.”

 

Despite the Victorian structure of the elevator, it seems sturdy enough and I have no qualms about its safety. Aoi seems nervous as she enters last, but that’s because of the tension I’ve established. Asuka hits a button and the gears operating the lift begin to crank, gaining traction as we descend.

 

“Simply put, my ability fills in the gaps of information that I need,” Asuka says, keeping to her word. “Giving me answers to the questions I need, from a certain omniscient source, although it's only on a need-to-know basis. I’m not flooded with the answers to all the mysteries of life."

 

I shudder at the implications. Even if it only applies to the direct situation, that’s a disgustingly good ability. Nothing can be hidden from her, and I suppose if the information keeps streaming in she has to be able to filter the noise out, but she’s smart enough to do that. Information is power, the greatest power, triumphing over most others besides those that can bend reality itself. It allows her to become a master tactician and manipulator. This ability suits Asuka too well, even if it’s freakishly strong.

 

“I know what you’re thinking, and my ability isn’t as overpowered as you believe it is. For one, I have to actively ask the questions, and if they aren’t specific enough I’ll get shitty answers, and they can’t be relied on all the time. But they’re good enough and have worked for now, haven’t they?”

 

“So essentially,” Aoi pipes up. “Your ability allows you to consult a Magic 8 Ball.”

 

Asuka smiles at the analogy. “That’s a good one! But the answers don’t take that long to come, although they are limited by the speed of thought, and when you’re talking about my terrific mind, pretty damn fast.”

 

I part open the scissor gate on the second floor as we step out, Asuka giving me a smug expression. “Satisfied?”

 

She moves ahead of me, and I realise that for a while now, she hasn’t been walking, but floating. Her movements are too smooth as she glides just above the floor, unnatural enough to catch my attention. On closer inspection, the sole of her right foot is a brilliant red, and I remember that after throwing her shoe to set off the trap, she sprinted right in. She must’ve burnt it when her bare foot stepped onto the burning ground.

 

“I can get careless too, you know,” she says, and I’ve been found out again. Stupid ability. “Something I’ve overlooked, and I suppose I’ll pay for that. But now, we’ll have to make do."

 

The corridor leading to the euphoniums’ cell is empty, just like Asuka predicted, and in no time at all, we’ve reached it. Asuka’s tall enough to peer inside and confirm that it’s them. 

 

“Yeah,” I reply her, as I prepare to fill the lock with air in the shape of a key, turning it clockwise to open it.

 

“Let’s get our friends out of here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter with a lot of hype stuff going on! Super hype!
> 
> Asuka’s ability draws inspiration from Worm (parahumans.wordpress.com), which is a fantastic web series with a spin on the superhero that’s already completed. I obviously tweaked it a bit to fit her classpect.
> 
> Put on your theorising caps, for every unrevealed classpect that someone gets correct, I’ll put forth a cryptic statement about the end of Soundscape or answer a question (up to my discretion). No kidding.
> 
> I feel like I give Asuka a lot of shit at how all characters that have interacted with her so far seem to have seen through her nonsense, but I just wanna point out that they are 1. canonically annoyed with her/ have actually seen through her (kumiko), 2. canonically skeptical and negative about her (reina), 3. canonically spent enough years together as a classmate and bandmate to have known her enough (aoi) and 4. canonically charismatic, competent leader that i've headcannoned to be a bit more paranoid given the circumstances (nozomi). Hazuki and Midori and (at this point) Haruka and Kaori would've eaten all her shit up (i'm hyperboling) without a second thought, and Natsuki's cool with her, so.
> 
> Point being I think it's a disservice having everyone fawn over Asuka because her bullshit masks can get real tiring and frustrating real fast. And that having enough people call her out on that bullshit even if she's the most competent among them might well I don't know, move her in a direction different from canon? Plus the characters aren't stupid to be played by her this bad, so.


	29. Somnum Nox 2.2.1.2 (Natsuki)

Less than five minutes after I willingly ushered myself back into my cell, I hear another bout of rioting ruckus from the outside. Then the bolts on the door become undone, and Asuka-Fucking-Senpai’s on the other side, all smiles and waving.

 

Kousaka Reina storms the room, notices Kumiko lying in a corner, and attends to her. Behind Asuka, I can see Aoi-senpai, who gives me a nod before acting as the de facto lookout.

“I’ll take her,” Reina tells me after confirming that Kumiko’s just sleeping, and then placing her slumped body onto her back. I start to protest, because no matter how you look at it, she’s not an athlete, and it’d take at least two of us to carry her, and-

“Let her,” Asuka tells me. “I mean, it seems like you haven't realized that you can float yet."

“I can wha-?”

“Leave it,” Reina says, curt. "We can teach you later."

“You mean I could've just floated upwards towards the window instead of having to spend a full thirty minutes making a fool of myself trying to wall run?"

Aoi gives me a sympathetic look before placing her hand on my shoulder. “It’s not intuitive. It took a while for me to get it. I’d been here two full days before Asuka and she found out before me."

“Shall we?” Asuka gestures, as she leads the charge out of the cell.

 

[♪] [The Breakout (shit just got real) - Problem Sleuth Unofficial ](https://problemsleuthunofficial.bandcamp.com/track/the-breakout-shit-just-got-real)[♪]

 

  
We clear the first corridor as Asuka kicks down the door at the end, almost in some horrible ragtag pose for a horror movie. As we jog, I can tell that none of us are at our best shape, not even me after that nonsense wall running I tried. The three of them must’ve gone through some rough shit to get to me, and the way I see things, Reina’s been the heavy hitter, taking most of the load. Asuka’s fine, but I can tell that her composure is slowly leaking out of her. Even the best can crack under such circumstances.

And Aoi’s well… I can’t really tell. 

She seems to take all this into consideration, knowing that we can’t take on a fight right now. Too much deadweight, inclusive of me. So we keep our feet light, almost hovering above the ground as we avoid the guards looking for us. Asuka seems to have the entire facility mapped out in her mind, with eyes everywhere surveying our opponents’ movements. There are times where she’ll pause, and then detour out a longer way. This jailbreak’s one of attrition, and as I remind myself of that I make sure to keep myself at a good pace.

“Halt.”

After a good ten minutes of scurrying around, Asuka stops dead in her tracks, a few meters before a corner turn. She makes us back track a bit, before crouching and whispering.

“There’s a lost lamb once we turn,” she says. “A single guard. I’ll need someone to deal with them. I’d do it myself but my ability’s no good at multitasking and I still need to keep tabs on the situation."

Aoi turns to Reina. On instinct, I follow suit.

Reina looks at us with an ‘are you fucking kidding me I have a Kumiko on my back’ expression before I realise that it’s really up to us. 

“If it helps,” Asuka chimes in. “There’s a very small chance any of us screws this up. Easiest job, I swear."

Before I can say anything, Aoi straightens up and marches herself down the corridor. And all I can do is wait, speechless and useless.

Dang, Natsuki. You really need to up your game and get off your lazy ass. This ain’t your cozy little cavern anymore with oni serving you tea on a tray, fawning over your safety left right and center. Not everything’s gonna be nicely handed to your ass on a silver platter. 

It’s like I’ve been playing easy mode while everyone else has been struggling, and now I’m paying the price of ineptitude.

It seems like forever, an almost excruciating amount of time. But then Aoi pops back around the corner, giving us a thumbs up. “It’s settled.”

“Told ya you could do it,” Asuka laughs, giving Aoi a pat on the shoulder as she drives her back in the direction she came from The rest of us follow suit.

I don’t pay much attention, but I can see the guard that Aoi had ‘dealt’ with. They’re a typical Dersite, slumped against a wall, seemingly unconscious. Their position seems a bit off, maybe something to do with how the head hangs but they’re alive, so I don’t think too much about it.

The fork from the hallway leads into a teleportation pad, and open using it we end up in… a janitor closet. Or at least something similar, with dimensions of no more than five meters. It’s cramped and stuffy but it’ll do, with no one else around.

As usual, Asuka takes charge of the conversation. “We really needed room to breathe and regroup. Everyone holding up alright?”

Reluctant nods come from all about, and then Asuka turns to address Aoi and me, and given the space she’s literally all up in our faces.

“I’m going to need the both of you to carry your weight, since Reina’s got her hands full for two,” Asuka tells us. “Fortunately, I won’t need you to manifest any extraordinary abilities in the next minute or so. Just listen to my instructions and follow them to a T, got it? Aoi, I know you’re not the fittest but we just need to overcome this last stretch.”

I gulp. Called out immediately huh? Oh well.

“Huddle up,” she says, as though we want or can get closer to each other. “I’m gonna explain the run down.”

“Past this transportalizer pad - which I’m gonna hack - is a large room, bounded by pillars. Fifteen by fifteen, each pillar roughly seven metres apart. At the end of the room is another pad, but it’s being guarded by two big hulks and two wizardy-guards. Big ones short range, wizards are long range.”

“We will traverse the room, one bound at a time. You’ll see what I mean. I’ll take center and draw the hulks. Natsuki and Aoi will flank to the right, Reina to the left. We advance together but not all at once, and I’ll signal each time by putting my right arm in the air. Left to right, so Reina starts and either Natsuki or Aoi ends. Only start moving once the person before you has finished. Move as quietly as possible, and always stay behind a pillar. When at a pillar, _do not move_. This is a stealth thing and if we do not cover enough ground before we are spotted it’s game over.”

Okay, sounds simple enough. I’m almost surprised it isn’t as thrilling or exciting but then again, when Asuka gets down to it, she really does.

“When we get to the ninth bound, I will not advance any further. All of you on the other hand, will until the thirteenth bound. When you are in position, do the same and raise your right arm. Then I will act. Once the hulks are drawn to me, charge in and take out the wizards with brute force, got it?”

Aoi gives me an unsure glance. Something tells me that whatever she did to that guard, won’t be of much help when we’re combating wizards.

“There might seem like flaws, but there isn’t a plan without any. We move forward, and we do it right, capiche?”

Reina’s been quiet this whole time, and it’s no doubt due to the strain of having to carry Kumiko. But she manages to voice her disdain, or at least disapproval coated in a mask of doubts.

“Are you sure about this? I know your ability has worked for us so far, but I don’t want to test to see if it doesn’t work.”

“Hey,” Asuka shrugs, her hands now working on the transportalizer pad. “I do my part, y’all do yours. And it’ll be fine.”

Reina nods once, and it seems her mind’s made up. I admire her determination and grit, the way she commits to things, an iron will and steely resolve. Dang, if I could just have a fraction of that.

I guess I gotta do what I gotta do. Seeing Kumiko slouched over Reina… that kid. She’s a good kid. She deserves my effort. They all do.

“Oh, and Reina? I’ll need you to disable the transportalizer on the other side once we get to the end of the room and go through. Just destroy it, so that our enemies can’t chase us.”

Reina doesn’t respond, but she’s heard it, and the pad in Asuka’s hands now glow a bright green compared to its usual dull grey.

“Alright then,” Asuka chirps, tapping the pad twice. “Let’s go.”

Without warning, she activates the transportalizer, and we’re sent to the other side in a familiar hum.

Asuka wasn’t kidding when she said it’d be a big room. It’s wide, if anything. But it’s also far enough from the other side that we don’t get noticed as we plop in. Asuka ushers us to cover, behind the nearest pillar in sight. She gives us a full minute to get accustomed to our surroundings, before a sharp, short breath draws our attention back to her.

She makes sure to lock eyes with all of us, before starting the plan.

  
  
[♪] [Super Natural - Nakagawa Koutarou](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NcbX7D420Bw) [♪]

  
"Go!"

The hissed whisper seems to echo throughout the chamber, but the high ceiling seems to catch the sound. We spread out, Asuka staying at the eighth, middle column. I take the thirteenth while Aoi takes the twelfth. Reina takes the second or third, I can’t be sure.

And then we move on command.

The tension ratchets up each time we get closer, the risk of being spotted higher. I make sure I don’t settle into a routine, because then I’d lose focus and my silly autopilot subconscious might fuck this over. I count each bound, that activity alone already taking up much of my attention, and my heart’s beating faster and faster when I realise that everyone else is floating but me, which means that 1. I’m getting the most tired and 2. I’m making the most noise.

Damn.

_Go!  
_  
Fist up, move. Fist up, move.

It’s like clockwork poetry in motion, a wave that advances but doesn’t recede. We move swift, vigilant, and if I could indulge myself I’d feel like Naruto.

Seventh bound. Swift and quick, coordinated action and then stillness. It seems like they haven’t noticed yet.

Eighth bound. Reina starts, flawless grace melting into the wind. Asuka goes next, a shadow that doesn’t touch the ground.

Then me. I push off for dear life, taking three steps.

On my fourth, I lean forward too much, getting off balance. My left foot overcompensates, stomping hard on the ground once, and my right snags itself on the ankle as I trip forward.

I don’t fall, instead slamming into the pillar in front of me, and that makes enough sound that the guards sense a commotion.

“Who’s there?”

_Crap.  
_  
Asuka doesn’t flinch, doesn’t give me a dirty look or anything, although I suppose Reina probably is but she’s too far away. Instead, she motions for Aoi to move ahead.

Aoi gestures, frantic, cutting her neck, making sure she doesn’t peek out enough.

“Show yourselves!”

There are some heavy steps thumping down the aisle between the seventh and eighth pillars. I can’t tell if it’s one set or two, but Asuka seems to take my misstep in stride. She locks eyes with me, her hands conducting a frantic symphony, her lips moving in tandem.

Now I’m no expert in lip reading, but from her gestures and whatever I could make out, I’m certain that she’s telling me this. To get Aoi, and get to the front, because this is the only opening we have.

I’m not gonna muck up twice.

As soon as she finishes instructing me, a stream of purple light rushes down the aisle bounded by the eighth and nine pillars, and I turn and don’t look back. Rushing back to Aoi is reckless, almost suicidal, but I make it work with whatever athleticism I have left in me. A second bolt of magic strikes the pillar just a moment after I reach Aoi and I know chaos has broken out.

Dead center, Asuka has stepped out now, facing down two brutes. At least she’s drawn both from the front, but I don’t want to think about how she’s going to deal with them. On the far left of the room, Reina’s sprinting to the front, and I start breathing deep, preparing myself to cover more than half the distance of this damn room. I’m dragging Aoi along if I have to, but-

I don’t finish the thought, because Aoi literally hoists me up into the air with her, and we’re flying - not just floating - now, ten feet off the ground, and I’m kicking because holy shit how do you even deal?!

I’m wondering why we didn’t do this earlier.

“Sorry, Nakagawa-san!” she shouts, her face twisted in pain from supporting my weight. “But don’t think about flying, okay? I’m gonna drop you soon!”

“Wha-?”

Reina’s flying too, whizzing to the front at an alarming rate, warranting the attention of both Dersite wizards. Even with Kumiko on her back, she takes to the skies like it’s nothing, a child of wind.

This gives us the opening we need, and Aoi rushes forth.

And without warning, I’m unceremoniously dumped, the trajectory of the Natsuki-missile headed straight for the wizard on the right.

White tendrils flicker around me for a moment, and it feels like life is flashing before my eyes.

What happens next seems straight out of a dream, and when you come to think of it, that shitty metaphor becomes literal on this purple hell of a dream planet.

Reina continues her charge, going straight for the wizard on the left. Nothing’s going to stop her, not even a euphonium girl starting to slip off her back.

My fingertips glow as I tackle the right wizard, beady white eyes open wide as they turn their attention to me too late, and the full weight of a teenage girl hits them on the shoulders. In reflex, they fire off their wand, but the impact plus them being startled sends the bullet right off course, slicing into a pillar in the middle columns, about four bounds away from us at the front.

Asuka’s also airborne now, evading the brutes and getting to the front. Her eyes widen at the utter catastrophe unfolding before her.

Somehow, maybe the wizard put a lot more magic into the particular blast, but it’s strong enough to shatter the pillar that it hits. And just like that, the broken segments begin to topple.

_You’re fucking kidding me._

Asuka blinks once, adjusts her glasses, before shouting at us.

“Come on, go! Go! GO!”

The room won’t collapse with the fall of just one pillar, but the toppling can ripple out in a pseudo-domino like effect, and the angle of that singular pillar seems just exactly perfect to break into other pillars. The brutes at the back have their route shut off from us, and in the midst of my struggle, Aoi has managed to knock out the wizard I was supposed to deal with. Reina has also dealt with hers.

And the pillars in the front row start to collapse too, and if we don’t get out of here in ten seconds, it’s gonna crush us too.

Asuka descends, grabs us all, and we get through the transportalizer, activating the pad.

Then, it’s over.

“What the heck just happened?”

“That wasn’t just lucky,” I huff, catching my breath. “That was borderline impossible.”

Asuka winks at me after I say that, and I can’t help but feel that I’m at the receiving end of a bad joke that I can’t understand.

Reina doesn’t even bother destroying the transportalizer, as per Asuka’s instructions. If it’s not already smashed on the other side, it’s definitely blocked off by heavy debris.

We’ve gotten into another hallway, this one as narrow as the previous room was wide. But somehow the colour in here is richer, exuding the royal kind of quality that comes to mind when you think of ‘royal purple’. And frankly, it even seems grander in scope considering how well decorated it is, with the pillars framing the windows and a bright red carpet folding itself up a gentle flight of stairs leading into the next room.

“Where are we?” Reina grimaces. “We’re not out of Derse yet. I thought you said that was the final stretch?”

“Yeah, for you kids,” Asuka dusts her hands on her gown. “From now on, just sit back and relax. I’ll handle the rest.”

Aoi doesn’t seem comfortable. Her face has turned pale, and she’s tapping her foot, fingers locked behind her back and biting into skin.

“Well, it’s convenient that the pad’s shut off so there’s no turning back. I didn’t want to tell you all because I knew you’d freak out but this is our best course of action. There’s one more obstacle we’ll have to clear, and then we’re free. And it’s through that door.”

The door in question is huge and looms over us even from the other end, the kind of double doors that should exist in castles. It’s the sturdiest thing I’ve seen so far, with impeccable craftsmanship and design. Come to think of it, this hallway’s easily one of the largest I’ve ever been in, as far as hallways can be considered. The ceiling is super high, adorned with tight carvings, an aesthetic feast for the hedonistic soul and-

Oh. I can see why Aoi’s practically squirming. I really don’t like where this is going as well.

Reina’s frowning now, trying to piece the puzzle together but still not getting it. “And pray tell, what is this insurmountable final challenge that you’re so confident of clearing yourself?"

Asuka grins, but by now it’s just a false show of confidence that no one’s buying. She must be rattled too, because it’s such a crazy plan that even I, someone who’s heard so little about Derse and have been here for less than an hour, know that it’s just batshit insane.

“The Black Queen.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoo boy. 
> 
> time to meet her majesties. 
> 
>  
> 
> there's been a lot of action going on the past few chapters, and this chapter in particular has been pretty hard to write. i'd polish it more but i wanna be disciplined enough to stick to my update schedule. any feedback would be greatly appreciated! 
> 
> and hey, thanks again for reading my story.


	30. Somnum Lux 2.1.2.1 (Midori)

[♪] [謳歌する若者 - 松田彬人](https://youtu.be/UrQPZmczPy4?t=582) [♪]

 

“Tuba-kun!”

 

To heck with disrespecting the Queen’s court. I’m a cute girl who loves cute things and there is this absolutely adorable carapacian right in front of me with chubby, rosy cheeks and small, sleepy eyes and a shako twice as long as their head, and. It’s Tuba-kun. It’s Tuba-kun come to life in front of me, better than Kumiko in costume, and now I can die happy. This adventure is over.

 

“You’re perfect!” I squeal, squeezing the poor fella’s cheeks together, smushing them under my tiny hands.

 

“I strive to be,” come the strained words from their pouty fish lips. “You have an appointment with Her Majesty, yes?”

 

“Who are you again?” Yuuko yawns, stretching out. She’s still adjusting, forced to take in the whole situation at once. After all, we forced her out of bed and headed straight to the White Queen’s castle, where this absolute gift of a being has been waiting for us.

 

The carapacian at the mercy of my hands keeps a professional poise, a blank expression as they look at Yuuko dead in the eyes. “Well miss, I am the Royal Attendant, personal chaperone of the White Queen herself. It’s quite an honour if I may so so myself-"

 

"Are you the attendant _to_ a royal,” Nozomi asks. “Or an attendant who _is_ a royal?"

 

The Royal Attendant frowns, or whatever a frown is when you don’t have eyebrows. "I’m afraid I don’t quite understand. The only royalty are the king and queen, and-"

 

"I’m just pulling your leg,” Nozomi chuckles, giving them a slap on the back as they walk past. “Don’t worry about it."

 

They look towards their leg, shaking it a bit and finding it very much not pulled, ending up even more confused than before.

 

"Is your name Albert?” I ask, still enraptured by the uncanny likeness to my favourite mascot. I turn towards the others, pressing my hands together even harder. “Don’t they look like an Albert?”

 

With an impossible amount of patience, the Royal Attendant explains to me that carapacians don’t necessarily have names, only functions.

 

"Can I call you Albert, then?” I ask, a twinkle in my eyes as I squish their cheeks together for just a bit longer.

 

“Aren’t you obnoxious today, Kawashima,” Yuuko chides, but I ignore her.

 

"We should stop messing around with the poor attendant,” Haruka says. "They have a job to do, after all."

 

Even as I look to the president with pleading eyes, she returns with an expression mothers give their children when they have to lightly deny them the pleasure of a new toy. Reluctant, I let the attendant go, apologising as they continue to lead the way towards the Queen’s throne room.

 

“If it pleases you,” they say, addressing me. “Yes, you may address me as Albert.”

 

I squeal in delight, putting my arms around them. “You’re the best!"

 

The rest of our walk is mostly silent, taking in Propsitian architecture with Albert willing to answer any questions we have to the best of their ability. As we get closer to our destination, Nozomi walks up to my side.

 

“Hey, Midori,” she says."You’re taking point when we’re talking to the queen, alright?”

 

“Whu- wha-?” I jump, startled. “I mean… shouldn’t you be the one? I mean, Nozomi-senpai, you’re much more eloquent and confident and… I don’t know…”

 

Albert makes it a point as we pass through a huge room with columns upon columns of pillars and into another hallway that we’ll be meeting the Queen soon enough. They continue explaining the function and history of the rooms to an eager Haruka as Nozomi replies me.

 

“Well, you’ve been here the longest, yeah?” Nozomi phrases her question as a statement. "So you have the best grasp when it comes to dealing with all matters Prospit. You’re the most suitable.”

 

Oh. That makes sense, but my knees already threaten to buckle at the thought of having the responsibility of not screwing up. I mean, I’m not even mentally prepared - I thought this was just a fun house call, but Nozomi makes it sound like I have to navigate politics and mannerisms and first impressions and-

 

"Don’t worry, we’ll back you up,” she grins. “We’re just here to talk and understand more, yeah?"

 

[♪] [Hallowed Halls - Jeremy Iamurri ](https://homestuck.bandcamp.com/track/hallowed-halls)[♪]

 

The double doors open into an opulent chamber, high ceiling and epic Greek pillars and all. A red carpet with golden lace trim lines the center path as Albert announces our arrival, and a figure seated on an immaculate throne right smack in the middle of the room is looking straight at us.

 

"Now look sharp!” Nozomi tells me. I put on a determined expression, hold my head high and strut down the aisle in my most protagonisty-fashion possible. Then I remember that awkward protagonists exist and that poor stereotypes only leads to weak storytelling. Dang… how does Hazuki even manage it? By being utterly clueless, that’s how. The lovable goofball who can only stay optimistic through ‘never really getting it’. Ignorance really is bliss, and even now she’s sleeping. That’s another stereotype, but stereotypes exist because they lend themselves to truth, right?

 

So what kind of stereotype do I fill? What kind of stereotype must I transcend to be the best me I can be? In order to stay truthful to myself? A compelling story can be told in any genre, but first the author must have a unique voice. A compelling voice.

 

I can’t find myself compelling, but I don’t have time to worry about this now. I’ll have to make it up as I go along.

 

Now, focus.

 

Prospitians generally dress in two colours - grey for the more common folk, and gold for those in higher places. For example, dear Albert has a light grey vest over a golden shirt, the crest of Prospit emblazoned near the chest. But as the White Queen stands to greet us, she reveals how her attire goes beyond the traditional colours assigned to her people. She wears a sweeping golden gown that fits her figure yet flows like a robe, the inner side of the gown - which opens up at the front - adorned in strips of colour that cover the full spectrum of the rainbow, but with even more colours. The collar of her gown fans out at the back like a peacock’s tail to frame her head, and the neckline plunges in a V-shape down to her chest, but she’s wearing a grey dress beneath her gown.

 

Her crown is plain but sits proud on her head, and even with all the regal weight of being royalty, she exudes humility like I’ve never experienced before.

 

“Welcome, my heroes,” she starts, and her voice is smooth like matured honey. “I’m sorry for having you wait this long before we could finally meet.”

 

“My queen,” I reply, bowing low. “It’s of little issue, since the four of us are finally here - you’ll have to excuse our final two companions, who are not yet awake.”

 

“I am aware,” she says. “Now rise, children. No need to be so formal.”

 

Nozomi backs me up on this one. “With all due respect, you are a queen, and our elder. But all in all, customs should be respected and politeness expected of anyone decent.”

 

The White Queen chuckles as she settles back into her throne. "Well said, young Knight. I see chivalry isn't dead yet, then."

 

Nozomi bows again, accepting the compliment with grace. The queen gives her an approving glance. 

 

“I…I er... my queen. I don’t believe we’ve introduced ourselves, even if you might somehow already know about us," I say. "I'm Kawashima Midori, and I’ll be representing my friends over here."

 

"The first to wake, I know," she replies bad though reading my mind. "The Heroes of Space are always blessed with creativity and insight. It’s only natural."

 

One by one, the others begin to introduce themselves. I try to read the queen, but I’ve never done anything like it before and I come up with a blank. People skills aren’t exactly my forte.

 

I discard that route, experimenting and attempting something that suits my strengths more. “That’s… neat. I have bits and snippets that I understand, but it isn’t really coming together. We were hoping,” and I gesture towards the others. “That you could help illuminate us, fill in the gaps of what’s happening.”

 

The queen nods, but before she can continue, Yuuko pipes up. “Hey, your majesty?” she says, the words foreign on her tongue. “I understand that you’d only speak with us when I awoke on Prospit, right? Well, now I’m here, but I’d really like to know why.” She crosses her arms, taking a stance of defiance. “I think we all do.”

 

"It is a trivial reason, but one which requires an understanding of concepts, answers to the questions I believe you have,” the White Queen responds, hands resting in her lap. "If you will allow me to address them first, my intentions will become clearer. Is it acceptable for us to leave this to the side for the meantime?"

 

Yuuko shrugs. "Sounds fair enough."

 

"Then let me spin a tale, for creation is what us Prospitians do best,” she curls her fingers into her palm, and even without pupils I feel her gaze directed at me. "It is why the Hero of Space is always a Prospit dreamer, and the first to wake at that, due to the strong ties between the aspect and creation. Likewise, its opposing aspect is fated for Derse, the ultimate, unfortunate law, that drags everything into inevitable destruction."

 

"But enough of jargon you don’t quite understand,” she chuckles, before standing at full height, and walking towards an open window that overseas her kingdom below. "I must sound like a sea creature trying to breathe water into a language."

 

And so the story begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to get into deep, deep lore. I’m going to have to ask Homestucks to bear with me, because this seems like a lot of information rehashing, but I’m undertaking the slightly ambitious goal of making Soundscape accessible to anyone, not just members of either fandom. Plus, I’m going to make sure that the exposition’s worth your stay. You filthy Homestucks will be able to get a lot of the nonsense I’m gonna pull faster than the rest.
> 
> I know the story still seems to be floundering around without direction, but I believe this is what experts in literature call a ‘slow burn’ (nah jk I’m probably not very good with pacing). Things are going to come to a head and pick up soon in this arc, and the next, and the next, and the next. But for now let’s get through Prospit and Derse.
> 
> Thank you for your patience, and for reading my story.
> 
> P.S Bits and dribbles, slips and dribbles. Classpect theorising is still up for grabs! Hear straight from the word of god if you can piece together the puzzle.


	31. Somnum Lux 2.1.2.2 (Midori)

"Let us set the stage on which our actors will influence reality.”

 

[♪] [Start The Adventure - MapleStory Symphony In Budapest](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lGPgZ3M9pRI) [♪]

 

With a sweep of her hand, the White Queen lays out an elaborate map of imagination, her command of the spoken word extraordinary. Even without having gone into detail, we can already sense the scope with which she's trying to convey her story.

 

"I apologise in advance for being lengthy," she says as a disclaimer. "As beings of the Light, we Prospitians do have some connection to that aspect, so please do excuse me if I… prattle on too much."

 

She looks from her window, and gestures for us to go closer, before placing both hands behind her back.

 

"In the beginning, we have the Incipisphere, the official name of this universe we all reside in, this universe of your session. And I say yours, because this is your story, my heroes."

 

As we huddle around the window, the White Queen points to an indeterminate speck in the sky, before a cloud in front of us starts to materialize a certain image.

 

"In each Incipisphere is The Medium, where your planets reside, a void of latent potential, bounded by The Veil. You'll understand these terms soon enough. The Veil is a ring of floating rocks, much like your asteroid belts back at home. Outside of The Veil lies our sister planet, Derse, skirting the Furthest Ring, where Time and Space do not belong, and the very unknown awaits you."

 

Surely enough, the cloud in question displays a schematic of the session, with minimalist icons representing each geographical element, much like a projector on a screen. It allows even those with limited spatial awareness to have a clear understanding of the universe's geography.

 

"But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let's focus inwards, towards the nexus of our tale. Despite our universe's many colourful elements, they all point towards a single point. At the very center of it all, is the benevolent Skaia."

 

The cloud’s image changes now, into Skaia itself - very much like holding a mirror up. The blue sphere still looks irreverent, a misty embrace of low hanging clouds swirling and rippling across its surface, refracting the halo of blue light it casts. Prospit is seen orbiting Skaia, hugging its edge like a watchful sentinel.

 

"It is incorrect to say that Skaia is a planet, or even a sun, as you are so used to calling stars forming the center of a solar system. No, Skaia is very much an entity, if you will, and you'd do well to keep in mind that it has its own nebulous consciousness, even if it only watches and observes instead of acting. It is a dormant crucible of unlimited creative potential, and it is this entity that us, Prospit is charged with the responsibility of defending.”

 

The White Queen takes a moment to let that last statement sink in, letting the gravity of her life’s mission weigh on us. 

 

“At the heart of Skaia, is a planet itself, and this is where the forces of Light and Darkness wage their unending war against each other. The Battlefield.”

 

Once again, the cloud’s image changes, and like the stirring of milk into a cup of coffee, the space around Skaia dissolves into undulating hills of black and white, checkerboard tiles amidst carnage and chaos. Prospitians and Dersites of all shapes and sizes duke it out, and I avert my eyes from how much blood is being spilt.

 

“This is the cruel reality we live everyday. It is my King’s duty to lead the charge on the front lines, while I am left to rule our kingdom and guide our people. And everyday I wake up with boundless gratitude, because it is thankless, fighting on the side of good, because this war is one Prospit is destined to lose, each and every time, without exception.”

 

A gasp escapes me, and I cover my mouth more for myself than to hide any surprise. 

 

“That is, until you all came. Your purpose, my heroes, is to prevent Derse from winning on the Battlefield."

 

"How are we supposed to do that if your defeat is inevitable?” Nozomi asks. "Isn’t it well, impossible?"

 

“Yes, and no,” the White Queen replies. “The law of gravity is absolute and drags down anything and everything to the surface without exception. But that has not stopped civilisations from conquering that immutable law and taking to the skies, in whatever shape or form. It is a boundary that we have to subvert, and although it is indeed tough, it is not impossible without the right tools. And you heroes are the tools that can tip the balance.”

 

I frown at her phrasing. I get the gist of the idea she’s trying to convey, but the way she’s put it…

 

The clouds now fade into obscurity, the image of the Battlefield no longer displayed. The White Queen turns away from the window, arms outstretched as she addresses the four of us.

 

"Like most tools, you heroes have a purpose, each of you fine tuned to precision in how you’ll impact this universe. Each of you have a given role that will fit in this well-oiled machine that is both personal and mechanical. These are your titles which I’ve no doubt you’ve been addressed as by the inhabitants of this world who know you as such."

 

Ah, I get it. She’s looking at us as objects that can help her win the war, weapons to be pointed at Derse. And while that might be our literal function of entering the game, objectification definitely doesn’t sit well with anybody. Even Haruka seems to be shifting awkwardly, and by now Yuuko seems completely shut off.

 

As though completely ignoring her own earlier warning, she continues elaborating. “Each role has two components - an aspect, and a class. For our purposes, there are twelve of each for both, and each of you has a unique role that encompasses them both. An aspect is the canvas, the medium on which you’ll shape reality on, while you can envision a class as the brush - how you’ll affect reality as such. Each aspect and class has its own characteristics which I’m sure you’ll no doubt learn about, but to skip ahead, it is worth noting that each class specifically, is fitted on a scale of active to passive, measured by how large of a conscious impact said hero has on reality."

 

Yuuko literally yawns in the middle of this mouthful of exposition, leaning her head on Nozomi’s shoulder while Nozomi tries to shrug her off. Then, the queen turns her attention directly onto Yuuko, and she has little choice but to perk up for the moment.

 

"And that is why I wanted to meet you, Yuuko. You have the designation of the most active class amongst the twelve basic classes - the Witch class. And in order to win this war, it is proactivity that we need. We can’t always take a defensive stance, we need to initiate and-“

 

“Hold up.”

 

[♪] [This World - Ramin Djawadi](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rxK_IrcM5BY) [♪]

 

Yuuko sticks out a finger from her crossed arms, dropping the other arm to her sides. “Let me get this straight here. We’re sent all the way from Earth just to interfere in the affairs of an alien race, to tilt the scale in favour of one side and not the other?"

 

The White Queen seems rather taken aback. “Why, not just any side. This is the Kingdom of Light against the Kingdom of Darkness you’re talking about here-"

 

“Yeah yeah, light darkness blah blah. You can’t be serious that one side’s literally objectively good while the other is completely evil. Reality as I know it is hardly so black or white.”

 

“Welcome to our reality, then,” the White Queen gestures. “Where we literally are white and black."

 

Yuuko shrugs, nonchalant. “Look, I’m just thinking that all you’ve said is kinda questionable, especially when half of our numbers are also on Derse, and their queen could also be attempting to recruit them, making us turn on each other in this silly fight when really, all we want to do is just get back home. Do you have any idea how we might be able to get back?"

 

“First of all, I am sure that the Dersites are doing nothing of the sort. In fact, they might be harassing your friends, giving them a hard time. That is not to say that I entirely approve of-“

 

“Hey. Who are you to decide what my friends are? Are you suggesting that Derse dreamers are problematic?”

 

The White Queen’s brow furrows, wrinkles forming on her unblemished face. “There is a reason why half of you are chosen to be emissaries here, and the other half to represent the kingdom of darkness. I suppose that since they’re with you they can’t be bad, and you’re all working towards the same goal in the end. They can prove their worth by helping us deal with the agents of the planet itself, given how close they are-"

 

"Okay, okay. This is the problem I have with you,” Yuuko replies, her voice rising to a near shout. "You may be queen, but I sure as hell didn’t give you your crown, and you acting all high and mighty like we are your vassals or something to be paraded about and served to your ends, my friends and I like pieces on your chessboard-"

 

“Hey Yuuko, maybe you should calm down,” Haruka advices, tugging on her sleeves. "I don’t think Her Majesty over here means us harm, so let’s settle this without-"

 

Yuuko turns on Haruka, immediately snapping at her and lashing out. "Haruka, I have a lot of respect for you, but this isn’t concert band anymore.”

 

Even Nozomi seems to flinch at that statement, and I can’t imagine how Haruka must feel. She’s putting on a brave face that’s turning redder by the second, her dress bunched up in her fists.

 

“Treating your friend like that? My, aren’t you a force to be reckoned with-“

 

Yuuko gnashes her teeth together. “Don’t you sass me, you arrogant-“

 

“I can see now why you’re assigned as a Witch. Foolhardy, stubborn, a penchant for self-destruction-“

 

“Are you sure the Queen of Good Kingdom should be talking like that? If you treat your subjects like that, sooner or later it’s gonna be you not me, who’s gonna be burned at the stake-“

 

“Why you-"

 

"Hey, hey! Okay both of you. Quiet, please.”

 

My words cut through their argument, the insults ceasing from the shock of little old me speaking up. I mean, I really had to, or there’d be no end to this nonsense. If they kept on their verbal spar, there won’t be any moving forward and both sides are just going to come out of this bitter without any progress. If need to give them room to collect themselves. To breathe, to think, to just be. Let their anger dissipate, and then redirect that energy into something constructive.

 

If they’re not going to see eye to eye or budge, then I’ll make that space for us to reach a consensus.

 

It’s the least I can do.

 

The silence carries on for another minute, with me in the middle of the both of them, a mediator glancing both ways and letting their gazes drop. Only then do I start talking.

 

“Let’s resolve this in a civil way. Each side will get to raise their points, and the other will not interrupt unless called upon to do so. Fair?”

 

Yuuko and the White Queen nod. Okay, good.

 

"My queen,” I say, facing her. "I hope I have your understanding that I’d like to have Yuuko speak first."

 

"It’s no problem,” she replies, having  mostly calmed down. She straightens out her gown as she gestures to Yuuko. "Go ahead, please.”

 

Yuuko almost huffs, blowing away a stray strand of hair before talking. “Alright. I understand your plight, but I don’t appreciate the way you’ve been treating us. I mean, if your only literal interest in me is because I’m some sort of not-so-secret weapon that you can pull on the Dersites, then wow, I’m out.”

 

The White Queen stands, ever patient, not losing her composure. Yuuko takes a few more seconds to craft her next few words.

 

“And I know I’m gonna sound selfish, but really all we care about is surviving and getting home. And maybe if winning your war will, then fine. We’ll go along. But I don’t want to put my friends and I into unwitting danger when we don’t have to. We’re putting our lives at stake here. And I’d like an answer to my second question - do you know how we can get home?"

 

Yuuko nods, and I take it as permission for the White Queen to speak. She catches the hint without me needing to pass it on, and replies Yuuko with a raised arm.

 

“To your answer - I genuinely do not know. But I do know that there won’t be a way until the outcome on the Battlefield is decided, one way or another. And knowing the Dersites’ penchant for destruction, I doubt things will swing well your way if they emerge victorious.”

 

The White Queen walks across the room, almost kneeling down in front of us with her arms extended. She’s almost pleading, and from the corner I can see Albert wanting to intervene.

 

"If it isn’t clear enough, I genuinely do care about you heroes. I pray for your safety and wish you success in all that you do. I understand words can be hollow, but only the test of time will bear fruit to my actions. But you _need_ to see that my hand is forced, and the clock is ticking. There is urgency in the matter.”

 

Her voice rises in pitch and rhythm as she raises herself to her full height, her words now a wave that washes over us. "My knowing is that you were brought over from your home universe into this one under the mantle of ‘a game’ - and I can see how. You’re treated as protagonists, as heroes with abilities and skills to ‘level up’ in, while the rest of us are countless ‘NPC fodder’ for you to reach your final goal and ‘win’ this. I know this because this is not the first and it will not be the last session, with countless other Incipispheres being played throughout the Furthest Ring, where each situation is exactly the same save one thing - the players. And I am sick of the same demented scenario playing out over, and over, and over again."

 

Okay, this is getting too real. A self aware ‘game character’? That’s really not something you see every day.

 

The White Queen tones down now, more sombre than anything, her indignation and rage from earlier now channeled into sorrow and hurt. "This is a game to you, but to us it’s life. It’s what we have to endure.”

 

Yuuko doesn’t have anything to say. Tongue-tied, she glances over at me, before averting her gaze.

 

"Your Majesty,” I start, my words shaky. "I’m pretty sure whatever this ‘game’ is, has become a reality for us’. This is something we have to endure too."

 

The first genuine smile I’ve seen creeps across the White Queen’s face. "I’m glad you see it that way, Midori."

 

"But just like how you’ve ‘called out’ players treating you as non-important characters to interact with, I hope that you don’t see us in a similar light.” I really want to get this across to her, in as non-threatening a way as possible. "You might not have meant it, but your words that objectify us makes us uncomfortable and reluctant to help when we would’ve been more than happy to. We need mutual understanding and for us to work together in order to make this session a success, and that starts by viewing each other as equals."

 

The White Queen takes a moment to ponder her words, before bowing before us. “I have been callous in my eagerness, and I apologise. But I hope you understand where I’m coming from.” She looks at Yuuko at the end of her statement, expecting a response.

 

"Yeah, yeah,” Yuuko waves off, seemingly satisfied. "I suppose running an kingdom can be similar to taking charge of a band, even if the stakes are infinitely higher."

 

Haruka shrinks into herself, and I make a mental note to comfort her after all this is over. People having been bashing her up and she doesn’t deserve any of it.

 

"I hope I haven’t upset you, Yuuko, or any of you for that matter.” The White Queen seems to want to wrap things up. "We might not have gotten off to a great start, but I hope that things will be smooth sailing from now on." 

 

"Just one more question for now, my queen.” 

 

Nozomi speaks up for the first time in what seems like forever. She has been patient, watchful, keeping true to her word and allowing me to handle the situation. But there’s a spark in her eyes, a certain weight to them as she voices her final concern. 

 

"What happens if we ‘lose’?"

 

"Oh, Nozomi,” the White Queen replies, a shadow of regret cast over her porcelain visage. "Let’s pray that we’ll never need to have that conversation."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh, these chapters are starting to get pretty long.
> 
> It is pretty much 90% canon that Witches are indeed the most active class. Hussie once stated in a tweet that besides Lord and Muse, the most active class is a female exclusive class and the 2 most passive are male classes (obviously in an attempt to break away from the mold where active classes seem to be for males and females having only supportive classes) (also those two male classes are almost definitely Bard and Page). Looking at the active classes - Thief, Knight, Prince, Maid, Witch and Mage, we can only tell that Maid and Witch are seemingly female exclusive classes. And looking at the impact of each classes’ players - Jade, Feferi, Damara vs Jane, Aradia, Porrim, it is rather clear that Witches are very active players, with Damara having had a huge impact on her session and Jade literally being singled out as the most important player in the Beta Kids’ session (colour of the Sburb/Sgrub house seems to reflect the character with the most impact of each session, currently Jade and Gamzee respectively. It is still debatable who in the ‘Red’ Alpha session has had the most impact - Dave, Jane, Karkat, Caliborn? It is a mystery).
> 
> So yes, Witches are the most active class. Fight me. Sorry to disappoint those who thought Asuka would be a Witch but she really isn’t the most active player (don't confuse ability/competency with activity).
> 
> Other than that, thank you for reading my story.


	32. Somnum Lux 2.1.3.1 (Yuuko)

[♪] [等身大の日々 - 松田彬人](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gtMUtJsOjSI) [♪]

 

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

 

“Hey, get off my case, Kasaki.”

 

We’re still hanging around the throne room, the White Queen making herself available to any personal questions we might have. Haruka’s saddling up to her, having a private conversation that she looks invested in. It’s no surprise that she’s the one that’s taken the greatest liking to the Queen. A kind of unsung affinity between leaders.

 

Meanwhile, I have to pry this clingy monkey off my back.

 

“I get where you’re coming from… but that was a bit too far, don’t you think?”

 

I roll my eyes at Nozomi. “Look, I had an inkling in my intuition, and decided to chase it down. Turns out, I wasn’t completely wrong.”

 

“But you were still wrong,” she chides. “You’ve created unnecessary tension that I don’t think warrants the shift in the Queen’s thinking. I mean heck, Midori achieved your desired effect while curbing the nonsense negativity you created.”

 

“Yeah, I guess,” I sigh. “I’m not gonna apologise though. Do you think her statements have any merit?”

 

Nozomi shakes her head. “I don’t get any vibes from her that she’s lying, plus the lore checks out. Entropy always wins out in the end. It’s much easier to smash a glass into a thousand tiny fragments than having to maintain the perfect balance that keeps it whole. If Prospit’s job is to defend Skaia in a seemingly unending war, it’s only a matter of time before they fail.”

 

“Unless they wipe out Derse completely,” I finish the thought. “I still don’t feel right about this. Are you sure?"

 

“Trust me on this,” she grins. “Call it my intuition as well.”

 

“Or your ability,” I cough, stressing that last word. “Miss Lie Detector.”

 

She punches me in the shoulder, enough for it to sting for a bit. “My abilities go far beyond parsing out truth from lies. There are many of us who can do that. Being able to ascertain and exploit information is but a smidgen - and not something I couldn’t already do.”

 

“The validity of the Queen’s statements only prove that she’s honest, and that she believes in what she’s saying, no?” I clarify. "Intentions can be skewed, and half truths might not paint the full picture."

 

“Truly narrow-minded and stubborn till the very end,” Nozomi teases. “There’s no wonder you make a perfect Witch of Rage.”

 

“You’re calling me a what?!”

 

Nozomi puts up her hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m only referring to you by your title, which is painfully obvious once you understand the basics. It doesn’t take a genius to theorise your classpect.”

 

“My what,” I reply, voice dry.

 

“Your class and aspect, you grumpy buffoon. Classpect is a portmanteau?”

 

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me yours?"

 

“Well, you already know that I’m a Knight.”

 

“Come on, don’t be coy.”

 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Nozomi grins. “Well fine, my aspect does rhyme with my class, so-“

 

I’m not well versed in my game meta, but Nozomi’s aspect the literal opposite of obscure, so I get it immediately. “Ah, the Knight of Light.”

 

“Truly Prospit’s daughter,” she bows. “While I could say less of you. That was a low blow you dealt to Haruka, and I already roughened her up before this.”

 

“You what?”

 

Nozomi waves off my question, deflecting. “Point being, you should apologise to her. Like, really.”

 

“Yeah, I should huh,” I sigh, shoulders slumped. “She’s doing her best too, after all.”

 

“And that’s what any of us can hope for,” Nozomi smiles, but it’s a tad crestfallen, almost defeated. “But at least we have a direction now. To get strong enough to turn the tides and help Prospit win-“

 

I narrow my eyes, folding my arms. “Yeah… not too sure about that. We’ll have to sync up with the Derse dreamers, see what they know. We shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

 

“Of course,” Nozomi replies. “And I thought I was the paranoid one."

 

“Paranoia is healthy is small doses. Many things are healthy in small doses!”

 

Midori bounces into our conversation, her chirpy voice already lifting the mood. “Hey you two, whatcha talking 'bout?"

 

She’s a literal bundle of joy as she floats next to Nozomi, all jittery and excited. “Hey you!” Nozomi laughs, messing up her already tousled hair. “You did good just now.”

 

“Aw thanks,” she blushes, grinning from ear to ear. “I only did what I had to. Plus, it was only because you stood to one side, I guess? You probably already knew what to do, Nozomi-senpai.”

 

“Nah,” Nozomi replies. “I would’ve only added fuel to the flames. I’m too abrasive a personality, like the Queen but without the poise. You were the ideal choice for resolving that situation.”

 

Without any hint of subtlety, I creep over to Nozomi, covering my mouth as I whisper in her ear. “Did you know that this outcome would happen, which is why you appointed her as..?”

 

“Yes and no,” Nozomi whispers back, all the while eyeing Midori like we’re leaving her out of some grand conspiracy. “I didn’t know specifically what would’ve happened. More like that… Midori was instrumental towards this confrontation, and that she needed a little nudging. I just moved the correct pieces into place so that the optimal situation would turn out.”

 

“Impressive,” I snigger, a confused Midori still looking back and forth between us, that is until a low rumble shakes the castle we’re in.

 

[♪] [Forecast - Darren Korb](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ToLBU-zJ2S0) [♪]

 

The attendant - Midori’s Albert - rushes over to the Queen’s side, Haruka looking all worried like the ceiling would crumble but it’s definitely built more sturdily than that. They have some sort of a communications device clipped to the side of their earless head, receiving an update on the scenario that they convey to their monarch.

 

The White Queen stands to her full height, her gown trailing behind her as she begins walking out of the room. “I’m terribly sorry to have cut our meeting short, but there is something I must resolve immediately. It’s nothing major, but might escalate if not dealt with.”

 

I must’ve been giving her a doubtful look, as she stops, and with an exasperated sigh, her shoulders droop before she straightens up her posture and addresses us again.

 

“In the interest of trust and transparency, I suppose I can tell you this. A Derse dropship has crash landed near the capitol… which normally would be cause for alarm. You see, there is a peace treaty of sorts, an armistice between the two kingdoms that we would leave our separate planets out of the conflict in order to prevent civilian casualties. All our battles are fought on well… the Battlefield.”

 

She gestures to a window on the right, and Midori immediately hurries to peer out of it. “So as you can see, Dersites on our planet can be cause for alarm if seen as an invasion. However, I know that this truce is not one that is lightly taken, with high stakes of destructive retaliation. No… I know that this must be an accident, one of many given that the dropships aren’t exactly piloted by the brightest, with Prospit being relatively close enough to Skaia that it’s a forgivable error. I would know, because not all carapacians have equal ability, whether on the side of Light or Darkness."

 

With that, she makes her way towards the double doors, Midori pointing out to Haruka the seeming crash site. With one last glance, the White Queen turns back to us.

 

“Take this as a lesson, my heroes,” she says. "Never assume malice when incompetency would suffice.”

 

And then, she’s gone.

 

“I take that as our cue to leave as well,” Nozomi claps her hands together, gesturing to Albert that we’d be on our way. Midori hops back to us with Haruka in tow, the latter floating slightly above the ground. I attempt to open my mouth and say something to Haruka, but it seemed kinda awkward, the timing being all wrong. I want to be sincere, and make sure it doesn’t come across as customary or anything silly.

 

As we make our way down the hallowed halls, Haruka’s the one to break the silence.

 

“Erm, as you all saw, I did talk with Her Majesty quite a handful. And while most of our conversation was on rather personal matters… I have something that probably relates to all of us. Nozomi, you might already have an inkling on the topic, but I think a second source would help in clarifying or corroborating facts. Especially given that the Queen seems rather eager, concerning this."

 

I raise an eyebrow, and Nozomi nods her head, seeming to know what it is just like everything else around here, but it is Midori who pipes up. “So, what’s this special topic all about?"

 

“It’s about the God Tiers."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of a wrap up chapter here. It'd go in the previous one, but that would make that chapter waaaaay too long.
> 
> Somnum Lux is almost about done, but we still have yet to see how our heroes on the dark side are faring. This whole arc should be finished by the end of next week, and thank you for sticking around for the ride!


	33. Somnum Nox 2.2.2.2 (Aoi)

"You’re fucking insane!" Kousaka hisses, even as Asuka strides towards the double doors. "This is your grand plan? Nicely asking a murderous monarch if she'll kindly leave us alone?"

 

"It’s too late to ask if you trust me," Asuka snaps. "We just have to get this done and over with."

 

"You’re gonna get us killed!"

 

"I’m striving towards not heading in that direction," Asuka sighs. "We’re all gonna get out of here safe."

 

Reina almost snaps, her voice barely below a shout, hoarse like the snarling of a beast. "This is reckless, and selfish and thoughtless, and if you want to off yourself so badly be my guest, but don’t drag-"

 

Asuka's expression goes dark, a dangerous glint reflecting off her cold, blue eyes. "You need to shut up, right now, and allow me this follow through. So stand there, look pretty, and take care of your sleeping girlfriend, while I deal with this."

 

The hairs on my arms stand as a shiver ripples through my spine, making my calves burn as I stay frozen to the ground. I’ve never heard Asuka talk like that before. Even Reina is taken aback, hushed up, and can only stare defiantly at Asuka.

 

"You don't have to come if you don't want to,” she says, drifting above the stairs towards the double doors. "Just don't get in my way."

 

[♪] [Blumenkranz - 澤野 弘之](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-0btRCbrZRQ) [♪]

 

Natsuki hurries after her, and I trail behind as the double doors are pushed outwards, opening up into a room just as opulent as the previous one.

 

Asuka enters the room like she owns the place, brimming with confidence bordering on arrogance. Her feet don’t touch the ground because of her injury, but she maintains the illusion by just barely hovering. Kousaka walks in lockstep with her, conveying a false stance of unity, carrying herself like royalty - and as we find out later, she's not wrong to do so.

 

The Black Queen remains seated in her purple throne, a restless yet expression showing through her sharp features. But everything else hints at boredom and laziness - from her crossed legs and shaking ankle to her cheek resting on her right fist with the elbow against the throne’s armrest. Her body language is contradictory and seeking to throw us into confusion.

 

It’s hard to describe her - how do you even begin? If the seven deadly sins could be packaged together to form a single cardinal vice, and that vice given sentience and personified, the Black Queen would be said incarnate. Her crown glimmers in the dim light, silver carved into obsidian, adorned with fat jewels of every size and psychedelic colour, the tines spiralling to the ceiling. Her gown blares with clashing shades of blood red and serpent green, overlaid with black leaking like slick tar to the base of her throne. Her dress reveals a great deal of her chest, a rich purple bodice that hugs her angular frame.

 

Her eyes are slits that look like they could cut you right open. She’s powerful, she’s dangerous, and she knows it.

 

“Ah. So you’ve finally come to play."

 

I get the sick feeling in my stomach that even Asuka's way out of her depth here.

 

“My Queen,” Asuka replies, bowing low. “I’ve come to bargain."

 

"There will be no bargaining," the Black Queen sneers. "Why should I give when everything is mine for the taking?"

 

"You will lose nothing that you wish to keep, my Queen. Your humble servants only ask of that which you can give freely, without pain or cost."

 

"Anything that easy to give is just as easy to not give," she yawns, almost lounging on her throne. "You're not making a very convincing case for yourself my dear, and with every passing second my patience wears thin. Or are you out of magic tricks to show your subordinates?"

 

Asuka squints, a fraction of a tell, but that's enough for anybody watching closely. Somehow, she's not prepared.

 

Kousaka bows herself, but even with her natural grace the action comes across as forced and stiff. "Your Majesty, with all due respect, we are not beneath our representative. There is no hierarchy. We are all equal."

 

"Hmm? She sure doesn't carry herself that way," the Black Queen points to Asuka, and in that moment, it's almost as if the clearest afterimage presented itself to me, and I saw the Queen for who she is - a spoiled, self righteous diva who believes herself to be the center of the universe. And that's not wrong, when you consider her to be one of the four most powerful beings in this reality.

 

The Black Queen stands to her full height now, and damn she is tall - three metres and then some, a statue carved from charcoal and set ablaze. Her eyes sneer, menacing, and as she walks down the stairs leading from her throne it just makes me realise how small I am.

 

"But before I dispose of you pathetic lot, I'm flattered by the sizeable audience you've granted me,” she gestures. “Time, Void, Breath, Heart, Mind, …Hope.” As she says the last word, she sticks out her tongue, training her eyes on Natsuki in disgust. “Respectable aspects you command. And what beastly classes! The brutish destroyers along with the dastardly scourges. Fit retainers for the Dark Empire of Derse. A shame you won’t bend to my will-"

 

“My Queen,” Asuka interrupts. “You presume our loyalties. I am willing to offer my assistance towards the fall of Prospit, guide your armies to march on them on the Battlefield-"

 

“Prospit?” The Black Queen almost laughs. "I have no trouble with that tiny, golden orb. I will dance the dance that is required of me with those fragile, porcelain figureheads, and then I will shatter them. In the end, I will win, just as I always will. Your assistance? Pah!”

 

Asuka tightens her lips, and from the corner I can see her mind racing at work, while the Black Queen parades herself, flaunting her body as her hips sashay from side to side.

 

"As much as it pains me to say it, the bigger threat is you. You in the plural, even as you pathetically continue to prostrate yourselves in this facade of subservience. Apart from the fact that it’d make things too easy - because I enjoy a good game as much as the victory - I’m very tempted to dispose of you all right now."

 

She sticks a pinky finger - a delicate diamond ring wrapped around it - into the air, curling it towards herself like she’s beckoning us, like implying she has us twisted around it. “You are the unknown factor in all this, and how I rein you in and play with your strings… Mm…"

 

Asuka opens her mouth-

 

**_"SILENCE!"_ **

 

The Black Queen screams, a blood curling screech that has us taken aback because Asuka hasn't even said anything. With the flick of her wrist, a clean gash opens up across Asuka's left cheek, and the action is so fast I struggle to process the connection between cause and effect. 

 

"You do not deflect! You do not brush me off! You do not dance around like a sneak and a thief unless I yank on your string and _make it so_. You do not toy with me, little one. _Understand?_ "

 

Asuka wipes her wound with the back of her palm, as though confirming that the blood is real, that this is really happening with the realization finally dawning on her.

 

_This is fucked._

 

As for the rest of us, what can we do? When faced with danger, most people know of the common two reactions, fight or flight, but are often unaware the third option - freeze.

 

Heard of 'deer in the headlights'? Know of cases where the victim is too shocked to act, to do anything except take undeserved punishment like a numb, broken rag doll? Well, this is it. The knowing of your sheer helplessness, that anything you do would be utterly futile, that nothing is your best option, and that is what you do.

 

To stand, sit, crouch, lie, and know that you're not worth jack shit.

 

I think I can safely say that this is how we all feel at the receiving end of the Black Queen's turbulent, wrathful tirade.

 

She continues her descent, and upon reaching the bottom, places the tips of her fingers just beneath Asuka’s chin, tilting her head to look up. Forcing Asuka to look up at her, into those mocking eyes. It is demeaning, it is disgusting, it is dehumanising, and Asuka just takes it.

 

“Poor girl,” the Black Queen croons. “Believing that a speck can walk amongst giants.”

 

She turns around again, walking up the stairs to her throne. "You have five seconds to come up with an acceptable answer, or else one of your companions will pay the price.”

 

No warning, no ‘begin', nothing except each step she takes now a carefully calculated second, and Asuka opens her mouth again only to stop, her mind floundering. She shuts her eyes, brows furrowed in deep concentration as the Black Queen reaches the top, the shortest five seconds of my life having taken place, her train swishing in a crescent arc as she faces us again, with a maniacal grin on her face.

 

“Time’s up.”

 

In retrospect, it was so obviously a fake. Her movements were too sluggish, too exaggerated. She stopped the lunge before it even began, and I’m not sure if it was my apathy or slow reaction time which caused my inaction. But the Black Queen let her eyes fall, let them linger on Kumiko for a full second before pushing back her gown, the heavy river of cloth sinking to the floor.

 

Kousaka wastes no time, leaping in front of her sleeping charge, a single extended palm bringing up a wall of wind that lifts the tail end of Asuka’s hair just a few steps away. Natsuki stumbles but catches herself, skidding to protect her junior with flesh and bone if nothing else.

 

And me?

 

I stay where I am at the back, rooted to the spot, observant, not moving. It’s not that I didn’t believe she’d hurt Kumiko. Or that Reina and Natsuki and maybe even Asuka would be sufficient - for what could be sufficient against that monster? Did I already accept the end, my inevitable fate amongst the others the moment I stepped into this room? 

 

Either way, Asuka turns as well, a fraction of a second too late to convey any meaningful information. Everything seems to move in fluid slow motion, each action so clear before my eyes.

 

The Black Queen meets my gaze, and even though I couldn’t hear a single word, don’t have any experience in lip reading, feel the wave of ominous energy wash over me too late, a deadly aura with a dark intent I could never imagine being cast in my direction. I understand the single word that she mouths.

 

_You._

 

The next heartbeat doesn't come. The next moment just feels that long - never mind that my pulse has just been interrupted.

 

A mass of black appears in front of me. Something heavy sinks in from the front, and the Black Queen is now leaning into me, only Asuka privy to what’s happened, the others still acting as a shield towards a foe that’s no longer there. I choke, if only because the feeling of metal in you is so unnaturally bitter. The world swims before my eyes in an ocean of purple.

 

Red hides in the folds of violet fabric but the liquid is wet and sticky and unmistakeable when it seeps through my chest, a blood crescent moon the symbol of a fractured heart.

 

I stumble backwards, catching the weight of my body on one foot, bef

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone knows 2 is the sign of doom, which in turn is the sign of death  
> welp
> 
> sorry friends this is not an april fool’s aoi really is dead  
> please read the first comment by me thanks


	34. Somnum Nox 2.2.3.2 (Reina)

"Well, now she's a part of the midnight crew.”

 

[♪] [Black - Toby Fox](https://homestuck.bandcamp.com/track/black-2) [♪]

 

The Black Queen blows a kiss as Aoi topples backwards, motionless, before another swish of her dress covers her return to her throne. She looks amused if anything, fiddling with a dagger caked in bright red.

 

"Lights out, love."

 

Nobody screams.

 

"Watch Kumiko," I tell Natsuki, my words coming out as spit.

 

I turn, watch Aoi's body hit the floor with a thud, hearing the crunch of bones that comes with the awkward angle that slams her right side first. My sprint transits into a pounce as I get down on Aoi, the red sticky on my hands as I tear my gown to try and stop the bleeding. My lips reach hers as I blow forcefully, willing my breath to reach her, sustain her, both hands above her heart pumping, one two three four five-

 

"You didn't have to do that-"

 

Asuka's growls barely register in my consciousness. Natsuki's somewhere, and I only focus on the task at hand... twenty eight twenty nine thirty, tilt the head back, blow, breathe, one two three-

 

"One puff is enough," the Black Queen cackles, clearly ignoring Asuka. "Or are you trying to destroy her lungs?

 

Fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen-

 

"That's enough, Reina. She's gone and she's fine."

 

Nope. No no no. Twenty six twenty seven twenty eight-

 

"Natsuki, leave Kumiko and go get Reina back up-"

 

No, not Kumiko.

 

I spin around, my hair wild and feral, the smudged rouge around my face making me look very much like an animal. The Black Queen remains in her throne, teasing and in command. Asuka looks tired, exasperated, and Natsuki's distraught, torn between Kumiko and me.

 

"Get up, Reina. Aoi's fine now."

 

"Fine?" I suppress my shout. "She's lying there dead, and you're telling me-"

 

"That's her dreamself," Asuka replies, calm. "Her second life is gone, and you've kissed her quickly enough that the damage on her actual body is mitigated. Now stop making a scene."

 

It takes me awhile to process Asuka’s statement before letting up. Despite her failure, it makes sense, and I can only rely on her to fix this somehow.

 

“My Queen,” Asuka says. “Let’s stop beating around the bush. My conditions are simple.”

 

“And if I don’t abide?”

 

“Then we fight,” Asuka states as a matter of fact. “We won’t win, but we sure as hell aren’t going down without making things troublesome for you. Plus, isn’t it boring just wiping a bunch of kids with zero activity for the next few months on your lonely, purple planet? Don’t you want a good game?”

 

Natsuki shifts, her clenched fists even tighter now, her gaze defiant as she stares up at the Black Queen. She seems oblivious to the wisps of white smoke emanating from the gaps in her fingers, surrounding her fists in some sort of aura that looks like it’d flare up any moment.

 

The Black Queen squints, eyeing her the way a mother would to a child about to throw a tantrum. Then she focuses back on Asuka, and with another yawn, speaks.

 

“State your business.”

 

“Two things I want,” Asuka says. "Information and peace. Both of which we will give back without qualms in the service of equal exchange."

 

“Oh my dear Mage of Mind, you know that I don’t _do_ equal exchange. What’s in it for me?"

 

Mind? I'd pinned her as a Mage quite some time ago, confirmed by the explanation of her ability. But I'd always assumed her aspect was Light, given how insufferable she is.

 

“I’m getting to that,” Asuka replies. “A single favour from me - anything at all, to be claimed by you at any point we’re in this universe. I’m asking of your discretion to be reasonable of course, but-“

 

A crooked grin crosses the Black Queen's face, and her booming voice cuts off Asuka. “A favour? Oh this is interesting. Anything, anytime you say?”

 

“Well, yes-“

 

“Then, I’m cashing in right now! Tanaka Asuka-“

 

Asuka’s eyes widen in shock as the Black Queen stands now, her mirthful smirk making her slanted eyes look all the more demented. “You are not to have a hand in my death or any attempts on my life, regardless of involvement, assailant or mastermind or otherwise. This is the favour I’m going to kindly ask of you.”

 

“My Queen-“

 

“But what is your word worth, when you are by definition a manipulator, a girl with many masks who can lie at the drop of a hat? No, your word is not enough. But I suppose now with your permission.”

 

With an extended arm, the Black Queen summons three rings - dark purple, light blue and plague green - that surround her like a suit of clubs, obscure sigils inscribed in the circumference. Another set of rings surround her feet, magenta concentric circles that whir and rotate in clockwise and counterclockwise directions. The same circles appear at Asuka's feet, and she's unable to stop what's happening as she gasps for breath and is brought to her knees.

 

"A contract then," the Black Queen screeches, her voice reaching a crescendo. "You will pay with your life if you do not honor your word."

 

From her magenta circles, a single red chain lunges out, sturdy and crimson, attaching itself to Asuka's. A turquoise glyph now appears above Asuka's head, the colour reflected in the previously light blue ring that mirrors its position above the Black Queen. 

 

"We are bound," the Black Queen points to Asuka, now struggling to get to her feet. "By life and by death."

 

The air around us is disturbed as the Black Queen continues her final rituals, the dark purple ring on her right now melding into a bright red, the circles at their feet matching in colour as the colors shift. There is a flash of black and white as the metaphysical chain seems to solidify for a moment before it is broken, and Asuka is left panting in the aftermath of smoke leaving both bodies.

 

With a little hum and flourish, the Black Queen rests back in her seat, satisfied.

 

"Now, I will listen to you."

 

[♪] [Bauklötze - 小林 美香 ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SpWjrfY7BXw)[♪]

 

Asuka takes her time to compose herself as she brushes off the dirt on her Derse gown, and then she straightens up to address the Black Queen.

 

“First condition is self explanatory. I’m essentially asking for a truce, in explicit terms. You don’t harass the four… five of us Derse dreamers, and in return, we’ll leave you and your kingdom alone. You don’t fight us, we won’t fight you, and vice versa. Much like your treaty with Prospit when it comes to blood shed on each others’ lands.”

 

“How does this benefit me?” the Black Queen whistles. “Time is your ally here. The longer I let this pass, the stronger you get.”

 

“We can deal if Derse is no longer a viable option for us to spend time in,” Asuka retorts. “It is regrettable if you choose to kill our dreamselves, but no lasting damage there. As I’ve proposed not too long ago - giving us an edge would make this game more interesting for you, no? Are you not self assured of your own eventual victory?”

 

“I’m not one for gambling,” the Black Queen replies. “I like my odds as is.”

 

“This is not a matter of luck,” Asuka says. “Look at your options and you know this to be true, no bluffs here. You are in control, and all we ask is for respite to operate as is.”

 

There is a moment of silence as the Black Queen contemplates this, before playing with the rings on her fingers. “And the moment I break off the truce?”

 

“We will come at you,” Asuka states. “The same works for Derse - the moment we come after one of your retainers, you can send the entire force of the kingdom to come crashing down on any one of us. This gives you time to collect and better prepare your home forces and agents as well, given that your soldiers are on the battlefield.”

 

“Then I accept this temporary peace once you’re out of my sights,” the Black Queen grins. “For the long haul.”

 

“For a good game,” Asuka repeats, before stretching out. That’s secured our safety, but Asuka’s greedy if anything. We can’t afford to relax now.

 

The light seems to come back in Asuka’s eyes as she acts with more certainty. “The second point is information. You tell us more about this universe that we’d like to know, and in return we will impart knowledge that you don’t already know."

 

"What could you possibly tell me?” the Black Queen sneers. “What does a child know about strategy and warfare, about running a kingdom, about navigating the perilous landscape of politics? Or are you going to let your half-assed ability fill in the gaps and provide me with what you think I want to hear?”

 

“No, my Queen,” Asuka replies. “On the contrary, I do believe that there is value I can add to you. You said it yourself - coming from another world, we are an unknown factor. Wouldn’t you like a slice of that, a slight edge that comes with information from the unknown?”

 

For the first time, the Black Queen seems intriguing, leaning forward in her throne. 

 

“Then you will have to prove it to me. Give me this unknown edge.”

 

“With all due respect my Queen, I-“

 

“No.” 

 

The Black Queen reclines into her seat. “I take whatever I want. If you refuse, I’ll take it anyway, and leave you hanging to dry.” This is a footsie battle of wits, the Black Queen feigning apathy when before she had expressed interest that Asuka tried to capitalise on. But she simply holds too many cards, able to give a valid excuse and deny Asuka, even when Asuka tries to call her on her bluff.

 

“You’ve already taken away my ability to be a threat,” Asuka grins, arms wide.

 

“And I have given you a blanket of security in your days to come in _my_ kingdom. I will not settle for less. Give me what I want, and maybe you will have what you seek."

 

“Alright then,” Asuka relents. “But in return, answers to our questions. I’m going to be a bit meta now, because I’m imparting information related to information.”

 

The Black Queen narrows her eyes. “What is this ruse, child? You presume that I don’t already know all there is to know about propaganda, the flow and control of media, the impact of knowledge?”

 

“No,” Asuka replies. “But with such a great wealth, wouldn’t it be key to focus, to double down on the important things and filter out the noise? I will tell you something I know will matter a great deal, perhaps even be the nudge that will swing things in your favour. A gentle reminder, if anything.”

 

“I’m listening.”

 

Asuka paces forward now. “There’s a saying, where I come from - or more of a question. If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? Heck, can it even be considered to have fallen at all?"

 

The Black Queen drums at her armrest with her fingers. “The point?”

 

“For our purposes I’m giving an answer to that question - no. What use is information when it doesn’t affect anybody able to act on that information?"

 

“This is not even worth mentioning,” the Black Queen snarls. “Redundant information is redundant? Are you daft?"

 

Asuka holds a finger up, asking for patience as she adjusts her glasses. "Let’s twist things a bit further. Does it matter what the truth is, if nobody knows what it is?”

 

The statement gives the Black Queen pause, making room for Asuka to elaborate on her point.

 

“But I mean, you shouldn’t go up against cold hard reality, the indisputable facts of the world. You can insist as much as you want to 1 + 1 = 3 but then you’d hit a very real block when attempting to do any sorts of mathematics. But when we come to intentions, to the actions of conscious beings, that’s a whole different story."

 

She’s almost grinning now, that Asuka, on a roll and she knows it. "For example. Did you attack Aoi out of mere boredom, or to show me a point? Did you specifically target her at random, as a diversion, or perhaps because you viewed her as a threat?"

 

The reaction is instantaneous. "You're treading a dangerous line,” the Black Queen growls. That surely hit a nerve, and all of a sudden the Black Queen’s actions seem to have a lot more depth to them, not just the capricious whims of a psychopathic tyrant.

 

"I mean no disrespect, my Queen,” Asuka replies. "It’s mere speculation. I mean, maybe I could parse the truth from lies with my ability, but there are very few who can, catch my drift?"

 

The Black Queen takes a moment now, her eyes scrutinising Asuka as though she could see through her, darting about and refocusing. And then it’s like she connects the dots, an unspoken conversation between the two of them forming, and I see perhaps the first genuine smile the Black Queen has given throughout this entire ordeal, never mind that it’s still laced with malice. It is one of understanding, and I’m afraid to come to whatever conclusions it implies.

 

"History is written by the victors,” she says.

 

“I see that you know what I’m talking about,” Asuka bows. “I hope you’re satisfied, my Queen."

 

And with that, we’ve given up our most notable leverage, and all we can do is pray that the Black Queen does follow through - and she has absolutely no reason to. I grit my teeth, already eyeing Kumiko and planning our escape.

 

"There is more,” Asuka says. "We have a notable text from my homeworld, a classic work amongst scholars and warriors alike. ‘The Art of War’ by Sun Tzu. I recommend the thirteenth and final chapter, and shall retrieve the book for you at your convenience.

 

"Please do.”

 

Now that the juicy bits are gone, the Black Queen exudes her disinterest, her attention span fluctuating from enraptured to non existent. Her voice is distant, as she glances out the purple windows into her dark empire.

 

"I also recommend getting well-versed in the forms of rational and probabilistic thinking,” Asuka prattles on. "A good place to start would be with Bayes’ Theorem, and I can also curate a selection of material for your perusal."

 

Asuka’s rambling is met with a curt nod, and the Black Queen slouches further into her throne, clearly bored out of her mind. How Asuka isn’t a Light player is still beyond me.

 

"That is all I have."

 

"I will take your advice with a grain of doubt,” the Black Queen replies, her voice flat. "It is much appreciated, but now I grow weary of your presence. I am a Queen of her word, and you will get the information you desire."

 

Just like that? Wha-

 

Asuka gestures with her hands behind her back. I don’t know what it is, but it allows me to calm down and take this in stride. The queen can be a calculating, scheming murderer, but that doesn’t mean she’s not a slave to her emotions, like all sentient beings are. Maybe this has been Asuka’s plan all along?

 

So I allow myself to internally celebrate. Finally. A victory on our part. The Black Queen herself seems to have given up her pretence of high intensity jestering, her mood almost sinking into a depressive nadir.

 

"First, our classpects, please,” Asuka asks. "For the benefit of those who have yet to know."

 

“Then just those of you who can listen - never mind the Bard or Thief, hmm?” the Black Queen groans. “You two are the Prince of Breath and Heir of Hope, respectively,” she says, pointing to me and Natsuki. "The sleeping one… let’s just say she’s not doing any divining with her eyes closed like that.”

 

Aoi’s aspect is Time, which leaves Kumiko with Heart or Void. A divination class… and if Asuka takes up the role of Mage, then…

 

“Second,” Asuka asks. "What is Derse’s purpose? Why do you, and by extension the kingdom, do what you do?"

 

The Black Queen chuckles in her throne. “Oh, my Mage. Why do any of us do anything at all? Because we are inclined to, that’s why.”

 

“But I suppose in our case, we are but players of a game on a grand stage,” the Black Queen continues, her voice raising with fervent passion. “And I seek to play the game well. That’s just how I’m programmed, if we want to be crude about it. And that’s just how it is - Derse is programmed towards destruction, towards anarchy, towards the whole _noir_ aesthetic we are so steeped in. And the way I see it, you can fight against it, or you can embrace it. And I _choose_ to be who I want to be.”

 

Asuka frowns, and the Black Queen laughs away her worries. “You think I’m not answering your question? Oh, I’m giving you a great deal. Derse exists to destroy. Nothing more, nothing less. But you’ll be pleased to know that we operate under strict parameters. As a Queen I am bounded by certain rules, things I cannot do and lines I cannot cross. The same goes for my King, my soldiers, my subjects. Each has their role, it is simply what carapacians are - whether a Prospitian or a Dersite. And again, I empower myself by assuming my role with _pride_ , and running with it.”

 

She leans forward, giving off a devilish wink. “I dare say I am the best Queen of the lot.”

 

I put my hand to my mouth, a sudden wave of mild nausea overcoming me. I hope I don’t have to witness that again.

 

“And finally,” Asuka asks, apparently satisfied with the Queen’s explanation. "What awaits for us at the end of all this?"

 

The Black Queen opens her mouth to speak, and then shuts it. She stares at Asuka - this tiring game has a great deal of staring and squinting and moving about in silence that I just can’t bear - before perking up, and she slaps her thighs as she howls with laughter.

 

“Ah! Is that what you’re doing? Is that what you’re all-! Ahh… I see. I see what you’re doing.”

 

Asuka seems disturbed enough that she lets out a nervous chuckle of her own.

 

“Clever, _clever_ girl. But not smart enough. Your endgame? Well, I will only say one thing.”

 

The Black Queen beckons Asuka to come forward, gesturing with her palm for Asuka to get closer, to climb up the stairs. And even when Asuka’s face to face again with the Queen, she gestures for Asuka to lean in, those wiry fingers pressing against the nape of Asuka’s neck as she brings Asuka’s ear right next to her lips. And then, she whispers loud enough that we can all hear it.

 

" _Home._ ”

 

"So you’re saying that by defeating this game - by defeating you,” Asuka clarifies. “We will have a chance to return back to where we came from?"

 

The Black Queen doesn’t budge. "I will neither confirm nor deny that statement."

 

“Then, thank you for your answer."

 

Asuka bows once more before returning down the stairs, and as she does so, gives us a thumbs up. Apparently, we’re done here.

 

"That’s it,” she says, addressing the Black Queen for one last time. "It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, my Queen.”

 

The Black Queen changes her position. "While I do enjoy your groveling at every opportune moment, this charade is getting old. Before you take your leave, aren’t you forgetting something, my Mage?"

 

It’s like Asuka forgot to ask the right questions, and something seems to dawn on her, her entire body stiffening up, and the first bout of palpable tension in the air since Aoi’s death.

 

"Your wits not as sharp due to fatigue?” the Black Queen laughs. "Or overconfidence clouding your judgement? Either way, my statement stands. Our truce begins the moment you _disappear from my sight_ , and I can see the entire length of this room.”

 

Shit. How could I have missed that as well?

 

"It’s not fun if it isn’t this way, eh?” she slaps her thigh. "It’s your fault for not catching it in the first place, so now you suffer the consequences.

 

A deep seated horror spreads across Natsuki’s face as she starts to pedal back slowly, before Asuka wags a finger at her to stop.

 

"Ah, don’t look so down,” the Black Queen pulls down the corners of her mouth. "You know what, I’ll even give you a handicap. Five seconds’ headstart. Only starts when any of you make a move - look, I’ll shout ‘start’ so it’s fair enough to you, alright?”

 

Silence, as none of us dare to move a muscle, formulating a way to escape. Five seconds, huh. It’s tight, but it’s enough.

 

"Oh! And here’s more - I’ll have one eye closed,” she grins, giving a disconcerting wink that never opens. “And be one hand down.” She places one hand behind her back. “Aren’t I gracious?”

 

“Of course, my Queen,” Asuka gives a forced grin, unable to turn around to face us.

 

“Now, my heroes. Whenever you’re ready."

 

Asuka takes control, as she always does. “Alright. Compose yourselves, plan your route and don’t move. Take care of who you need to take care of. At my count of three, we move, alright?”

 

Natsuki and I voice our acknowledgement, sound the only thing tying us together now. From her throne, the Black Queen watches us with amusement.

 

_I have to protect Kumiko-_

 

“Okay then,” Asuka breathes, after giving us a minute of deliberation. “Three, two, one… Go!”

 

[♪] [Chuck’s News Flash - Jim Dooley](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QNQGknPDjW4) [♪]

 

No point hindering the Black Queen when we have a reasonable means of escape. I count the seconds in my head, rushing straight for Kumiko as Asuka scoops up Aoi’s corpse, taking straight to the skies like a bullet as I head off to the double doors. I’ve worked out the route in my head, I know where to go, how fast to go, and the whole thing takes no more than three seconds-

 

“Wait!”

 

It’s not like Asuka’s forgotten, but more of the fact that she can’t do anything. With each of us having another body to carry, there’s nothing we can do about Natsuki, who very much can’t fly yet, who definitely will take more than five seconds to sprint down the length of the hallway.

 

_Four._

 

“Come on!” Asuka shouts, shifting Aoi into a more comfortable position. “You can-“

 

_Five._

 

The Black Queen’s throne is empty.

 

“She’s coming!” I scream.

 

There’s a dissonant shriek, a shrill scream as the Black Queen appears in front of me.

 

“She’s already here~”

 

I twist my body, back facing her to shield Kumiko as the Black Queen sends a kick straight into my lower left back, and I’m rocketed towards the portal end of the room. It takes all my effort to cushion myself from both the impact of the blow and the landing, and whether by fortune or design, Kumiko and I are sprawled right next to the transportalizer pad.

 

Asuka’s high in the air, urging Natsuki to run faster, but it’s no use, being limited by her physical body. The Black Queen saunters towards her, before disappearing in a blur of black, too fast for any of us to keep track of.

 

“Right!” Asuka shouts, just as the Black Queen appears, slashing down with the bloodied dagger and barely missing Natsuki’s head.

 

I push Kumiko onto the pad, bringing her to the other side before getting up on the pad myself, ready to leave at a moment’s notice. But I can’t just leave Natsuki here like that.

 

“Down!” comes Asuka’s next cry, but Natsuki stumbles just as the Black Queen slices a wide arc around chest level, which misses Natsuki as she crumples into a ball of limbs and rolls on her side. Ever patient, the Black Queen licks her lips as she walks up, throwing her knife in the air and catching it.

 

“Come on!” I shout, my voice hoarse from the stress. I extend my arm, willing to do something, anything.

 

Natsuki scrambles to her feet, panic getting to her but she’s not giving up, Asuka now lowering herself to receive Natsuki as we all get ready to jump-

 

Asuka’s eyes widen as she shouts, just a split second too late-

 

“Right-!”

 

I send a concentrated wave of air forward, attempting to cut down the Black Queen like a blade but I’m not fast enough, not accurate enough, and-

 

Natsuki’s now less than ten metres away from us and the Black Queen seems to materialise right next to her. My gust does nothing to hinder her, just a scratch on the shoulder as she dodges the rest. And with a clean swipe, she carves upwards just as Natsuki attempts to twist away, and I can see blood splatter across the Black Queen’s demented grin as Natsuki’s forearm gets cleaved right off-

 

And then Natsuki explodes.

 

Not literally, but close enough. The white aura that had only been a flickering nuisance up till now, billows out in spades, like a flood that could be barely contained, bursting out of Natsuki in all directions. The Black Queen gets knocked backwards… no. Thrown backwards, flushed as though an ocean had just hit her, traveling half the length of the room in a single second as Natsuki continues falling backwards-

 

White tendrils grow out of her fresh wound, like roots from the trunk that ends at the stump of her elbow, and it’s so surreal just watching it, as it seeks out the dismembered forearm, latching itself to the end, and then shrinking, reattaching Natsuki’s limb as though it had never been cut off.

 

The Black Queen’s cries are an amalgamation of an angry scream and uncontrollable laughter, as though she’d just been hit with a punchline she never thought possible, even though she had seen it coming. She writhes and flails, and Asuka tosses Aoi to me as she drags Natsuki back, and we all go through the transportalizer-

 

And we’re on the other side. That’s it. We’re done.

 

I look around, and there we are, the five of us. I don’t really know what’s happened, but in between our huffing and panting, sick migraines and what the hecks, at least I know one thing.

 

We did it.

 

We’re safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Okay. This is the longest chapter to date, with three amazing songs and over 4000 words. What a whopper of an update!
> 
> There's so much to talk about, I even made an entire post about it! You can read about my self indulgent meta spiel here: http://vesta-xx.tumblr.com/post/159195070361/somnum-nox-2222-and-2232-thoughts
> 
> Only two more updates left in this arc. And then..? We'll talk about it when we get there.
> 
> Thank you for reading my story.


	35. Somnum Nox 2.2.4.1 (Asuka)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For future reference, any song with {♪} instead of [♪] is to be played till the end, even after the words have run out, kind of like an 'after-credits' scene. Listen, and fill in the blanks with what you're hearing.

[♪] [6月8日 - 橋本由香利](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vL4XFetawsA&list=PLL0sx32kbiHkUNf6iH1KiZLxmRAH6qh7x&index=6) [♪]

 

First things first. Turn my ability off, because if not I’m gonna be out of my mind. The strain would be too much to maintain, and it’s not like I’ll be needing it anymore.

 

I pick myself up, help Natsuki to her feet, and then go for Aoi’s body, hauling her for a proper piggyback.

 

Sweat sticks with blood to my back, my shoulders sore as Aoi’s arms hang above them, even though she’s not that heavy. But the reminder that it’s just her lifeless body now… that weighs. 

 

_I couldn’t protect them all._

 

“Did you know that this would happen?"

 

Reina again, never giving me a break. This is why I hate dealing with people. My ability has almost made it harder, because now there are more parameters to consider, when things had been straightforward before. I’m really not up for this now.

 

“No,” I sigh, struggling to balance Aoi’s cold thighs. I’m limping, my mind shutting down and I can’t levitate no more, my left sole stinging with each step, but I guess that’s my recompense. “The Black Queen is able to counter my ability. I went in there partially blind.”

 

“And you couldn’t find out beforehand?”

 

I groan at her interrogation. “It’s not a straight up counter, it’s like she’s… manoeuvring me. The… answers change each time, and she’s doesn’t react to expectations. And I have an inkling why.”

 

Reina walks up to my side, but doesn’t meet my glance. “I don’t suppose you’ll tell us?”

 

“A work in progress, nothing more than a shot in the dark. I’ll inform you all when my hypothesis becomes more of a theory.”

 

She nods, curt. “I want to thank you, but I’m sorry if I can’t bring myself to. I-“

 

“You don’t have to say anything,” I give a wistful grin, eyes only looking at my bare, charred, bloodied feet. “It’s my fault, what happened to Aoi. She’s not going to take it well and that was a gross miscalculation. I…”

 

What can I say? There’s nothing to say, no excuse to give, and certainly no apology for anyone who’s here. I’m going to have to visit Aoi.

 

I don’t think I underestimated the Black Queen - she wasn’t less formidable than I had imagined, but she was different. Inconsistent, chaotic, mercurial. That, together with the fact that we don’t have a firm grasp on what her abilities were - they kept changing in my mind’s eye, a myriad of different combinations that don’t seem to make sense, unless…

 

“I still want to know why you did why you did,” Reina insists. “I have a right to.”

 

“You do,” I reply, curt. “Fine, I’ll break it down. The only way to continue being in Derse without being pestered, is to deal with the top brass. We can skirt around the issue, play hide and seek for the rest of our time here, or abandon the planet entirely and somehow have to deal with the disadvantage of not having access to the Veil and the Furthest Ring. You agree with me so far?”

 

Reina gives a reluctant nod.

 

“So,” I continue. “I got us all together to meet the Queen. It’s a do or die, and she might be able to leverage any of us as hostages if left behind in jail cells or whatever. I don’t know. We can’t win at a straight up fight at our level - even with Natsuki's surprise firepower, as final boss material the Black Queen has to be stronger than that. Her ability’s not even that reliable - no offence.”

 

Natsuki just shrugs, still in slight disbelief as to what happened back there.

 

“My ability is not a combat ability. As a Mage, I actively seek to understand. As a Hero of Mind, I deal with choices, logic, consequences. I’m uniquely suited to combat the Black Queen in a battle of wits. Peace of course is our first goal, but if possible I wanted to get more out of that confrontation, given that I don’t think any of us want to meet her anytime soon. Whether you like her or not, she’s indisputably a wealthy source of knowledge, no?”

 

Neither Reina or Natsuki disputes me.

 

“And I know what you’re thinking. She didn’t give us that much. Her second answer is intriguing - it gives as a glance into the nature of carapacians, and of this twisted game I’m playing. But trust me when I say that I can see deeper than that, which is the whole point. Her final answer isn’t completely wasted, and all I need is to piece the puzzle together. My very presence with her is enough to gather vital information, get it?”

 

“What I don’t get-“ Reina groans. “Is how you can even trust anything she says. She’s shown to be remorseless, has no qualms about exploiting us and abusing us, why should she have even kept her end of her deal? How can you be sure anything she said was correct, if as you’ve said your ability is compromised when dealing with her? How do you even know she’ll keep up her end of the truce?”

 

“To answer your last question,” I reply. “She won’t. The Black Queen’s not one for patience or pacifism. Sooner or later she’ll get bored, and she’ll attack us. The truce only buys us time - and to answer most of your questions, she said it herself. It’s all for a good game - that’s her angle. Not just a facade, that’s who the Black Queen is, and it is that way because she chooses to be so. She has limitations and she embraces them, makes them a core part of who she is. So it’s all about finding out what these limitations are.”

 

Reina frowns, but doesn’t interrupt. We’re now walking in the open after departing from the Black Queen’s castle, Dersite guards standing in pairs and letting us pass. Word sure travels fast.

 

“She’s stated them herself. The Black Queen has to remain honest to a fault. She keeps her word because she has to, and she chooses to. That’s why she’s very careful about her phrasing - and how I let myself fall into her final trap. The royalty has to act like royalty - with all the honour and rules that it comes with, even for the kingdom inclined towards destruction. Her words might have double, hidden meanings, but they’re not lies.”

 

“The truce,” Reina sounds dead. “How much time does it buy for us?”

 

I shrug. “It’s hard to say, but I have countermeasures in place. We’ll know when it happens, and we’ll hit them hard. I’d give us two weeks at least, but depending on how long our session is we might have more time.”

 

And with that, Reina finally keeps quiet. Even though it’s tiring, I don’t mind explaining my actions - if only to gain the trust of the others by being transparent, and to keep my mind off the burden on my back.

 

I thought about it again. I can’t…

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

I’m really tired.

 

Come to think of it, it must be deliberate. The Black Queen dragged out our confrontation, countering each statement I made with a question, delaying me, tripping me up. On the surface level, it’s because she’s bored, and because she can. Everything is for her amusement, her enjoyment. But beyond that, she’s forcing my ability to go into overdrive, especially when she seems to match me. I thought I had the edge of a specialist, but it was very much an even battle.

 

And that skirmish, the mind games and deliberation of different levels and intentions… it exhausted me, and it allowed me to slip up at the end, just like she wanted.

 

I really hate her. _Wow._

 

Aoi almost seems to agree with me, nodding with each step, her forehead bumping against my ears and her chin digging into my right shoulder. It’s more disconcerting than you think, having to carry your dead friend’s body, how cold it is, the thought of having to face her, explain to her that you didn’t leave her to die, that she wasn’t just another piece, another risk, another-

 

_I’ll carry you home, sister. I’m sorry._

 

I can’t dwell on this. There are preparations to finalise. The setups I’ve rigged around Derse, making sure that they remain undisturbed until activation, that they’ll send the Black Queen a clear message not to mess with us. She might come for us earlier than I had planned, and I’ll need to keep sharp.

 

And then there’s everything else. I share Yuuko’s sentiments and suspicions about our endgame. Derse wants to destroy Skaia, but why? It’s not just for the sake of destroying, isn’t it? Even though that is a factor, it isn’t the only one. And how would Derse destroy Skaia anyway? Is Skaia’s life force tied to the Prospit monarchy? Or..?

 

“Erm, Asuka?”

 

Natsuki walks up to me now, scratching the back of her head. She shifts uncomfortably, her steps small but rushed, rubbing her left shoulder with her right arm. All tells for guilt, and it’s not just because she’s not the only one not carrying another body. I grin at her in acknowledgement.

 

“I want to say thanks. Eh… you really pulled through, back there.”

 

“Could’ve been better,” I smile, not sure if I’m coming across as sardonic. Knowing Natsuki, that wouldn’t be so bad in itself.

 

She suppresses a wry chuckle at my joke. “But seriously. It was a thankless job no one wanted. Not even Reina, I guess. You took charge and you got most of us out."

 

"I did take it upon myself,” I reply. “I’ll bear the consequences.”

 

“But you should bear the victory as well,” she grins, and holds Aoi by the waist. It takes quite a lot off my shoulders.

 

“Well then,” I say. “You’re welcome.”

 

Natsuki lets out a snort, much to Reina’s chagrin. “Anytime.”

 

We opt to move via the chain, since Natsuki can’t really float yet. Reina volunteers to teach her then and there, the wonky gravity pretty much the ideal situation for learning how to navigate three-dimensional space. Natsuki offers to carry Aoi for the rest of the trip, but I tell her it’s fine. 

 

“Hey,” Natsuki asks, about a minute’s walk away from the chain. “Can I ask you something?”

 

“Shoot,” I grin.

 

“My er… _miracle_ back there. Did you know it would happen?”

 

Ah. I see what’s happening here. No point not being honest about it.

 

"A fluke. I never really saw it coming, at all. Never factored it in, which is why well… I was so worried that you wouldn’t make it until the last second-“

 

Natsuki nods, her head sinking. "I guess I’m not that dependable yet, huh.”

 

She’s beating herself up, her confidence shaken. It’s not like she didn’t contribute, but it’s hard to feel like you did anything when it’s all accidental. She needs encouragement, moving forward. Natsuki may just have the most potential among us all and I’m not letting that go to waste.

 

"Hey, listen.”

 

Natsuki pulls her hands out of her gown’s pockets, eyes red with worry as she looks at me.

 

"I want you to know how remarkable you are. What you did back there? I don’t care chance or not, I doubt any of us could’ve held back the Black Queen like that. Imagine what you could do when you can control it!”

 

She shrugs, and I know maybe I’m approaching this at the wrong angle. Power isn’t exactly her thing.

 

“You’ve got a lot of growing to do,” I say. “Sure, but when you get there? You’ll be a phenomenal help to us all. You’re the Heir of Hope, Natsuki. Carry it. It’s a gift, and I don’t think I’m kidding when I say you can do anything.”

 

{♪} [次回予告 - 橋本由香利](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EJVxe_-u1bE&list=PLL0sx32kbiHkUNf6iH1KiZLxmRAH6qh7x&index=18) {♪}

 

There is a glint in her eyes. “Really?"

 

"Come meet me when you’re free,” I grin, hopping once to bounce up Aoi’s slipping body. "We’ll discuss the future. I’ll help you get on the road ahead.”

 

And now Natsuki looks up, forward, _hopeful_. Her stride is wider, faster, and she’s lost in a cloud of possibilities, the what if becoming clearer and clearer.

 

Me? I continue treading the war-trodden path, each step heavier and heavier as we start our ascent back to the moon. Then it’s time for few restful winks of a good night’s sleep, before another busy day when dawn arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath. Be sure to finish the second song and picture the walk of the Derse dreamers up the chain back to their moon.
> 
> This chapter's music is from the anime 'March Comes In Like A Lion (3-gatsu no Lion)'. Beautiful, heart-wrenching stuff.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


	36. Somnum Lux 2.1.1.4 (Haruka)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can find your own version for the second song, please do so.

[♪] [彼女は美しい - 横山克](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7S0udyBEmC8) [♪]

 

A mosaic of light trickles from the ceiling, Skaia directly above us now. The shepherd’s purse is frail but upright, and I give it a good sprinkle to keep it hydrated. It sits just shy of the windowsill, a safety net on the outside in case it falls.

 

Then, I find my favourite nook in the room, wiggle into it as I close my eyes to rest. I like this corner, because it gives me a great view of the window, watercolor blue and white framed in gold, and of Kaori, turned towards me, eyelids quivering in a fascinating slumber.

 

I'll enjoy the view while I'm here.

 

Every few hours, Kaori's fringe will fall above her lashes, disturbed by a slight tossing of the body, or a breath slightly out of sync. And I'll reach over, gently tucking her hair back behind her ears, so that the first thing she tastes when she wakes up won't be unconditioned split ends sticking to her lips.

 

Four days is more than enough to settle into a routine. Kaori knows this too and doesn't mind. 

 

So I don't have any reason to expect different.

 

The Skaian breeze is cool, clouds turning into mist that chills my forehead. I close my eyes, letting the serene peace drift around me, back cuddled into a hill of pillows. When I open my eyes, I find two scarlet eyes staring back at me.

 

Kaori gives me a serendipitous grin, blowing away any hair that wipes her face, her kind eyes lukewarm and still adjusting to Prospit’s light.

 

I can only smile back like a fool, contemplating getting up from my extremely comfortable position, and then deciding that it’s worth it.

 

"You’re awake."

 

* * *

 

I couldn't imagine it to be so... normal.

 

I’ve never been in Kaori’s room before. But when the White Queen told me she was here on Prospit too, I just had to come the moment we were back on the moon. It’s rude to intrude, but I don’t think she’ll mind. If anything I’ll apologise after and return to my little golden shell.

 

Kaori seems like a really put together person, so I expected the tidiest room ever but it’s just like every other teenage girl’s room. I guess that’s what happens when people become ideas, and you have to remember that they doesn’t exist on shiny pedestals. My head’s in the clouds and I need to get back down to Earth.

 

It’s still neat. Just not… perfect. Not Asuka-perfect, even though Asuka isn’t really, shouldn’t be perfect. Maybe I’ve set Asuka as the standard of perfection, thus allowing me to believe that perfection exists? I don’t know. All that I know is that I’m never really enough.

 

But seeing Kaori here like this. That’s enough. I don’t know, really. It seems really fortunate that she’s the other third year on Prospit with me, because I don’t think I can deal with Asuka’s machinations and Aoi is well… Aoi. Kaori brings heart and balance and pushes me to be so much more, my greatest support even though she could outshine me at any moment.

 

I want to be able to support her too.

 

Sneaking a glance, I spot Kaori’s bed of hair before her skin peeks through. Realising that no one else is watching, it’s not even a crime, there’s nothing wrong with just taking care of your friend, I allow myself a longer look. Her chestnut hair contrasts with the golden pillows, golden everything, and the second thing I notice is how her rosy cheeks rise like bread in an oven with each breath, and they look so bouncy and poke-able.

 

I don’t disturb her, because that’s a pretty shitty thing to do to a friend, plus I don’t want to prematurely wake her or anything. She can come to in her own time.

 

I notice an empty flower pot sitting at the corner of her table. Back home, it must’ve been filled with actual flowers, but I suppose living things don’t exactly transfer over to the dreamland. Knowing that Kaori’s good with arts and flower arrangement in particular, I know she’d like some flora in her room. After surveying the room one last time, I begin to exit through the window.

 

Maybe if she isn’t awake the next time I visit, I’ll stay for longer, just to keep an eye on her. Plus I should ask first, because it might seem a little creepy? I don’t know.

 

But knowing that she’s alright, finding out that she’s also really cute while asleep, that she’s my partner up on this lonely golden planet.

 

_That’s nice._

 

* * *

 

[♪] [How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful (Demo) - Florence + The Machine](http://vocaroo.com/i/s1vL8LL96jhm) [♪]

 

Midori can be seen vaulting about above Skaia, a frolicking speck in the expanse of space. She’s like a whizzing comet in her own element, a playful satellite revolving around Prospit.

 

Kaori gets used to the weird mechanics of the dreamself without any hiccups. The catch towards performing aerial hijinks is tricking your brain into believing that gravity doesn't really exist here. The moment you accept that you're pretty much in outer space and weightless, the dreamself does the rest.

 

We dangle our feet as we sit on the window sill... the _other_ edge of the window sill such that we're upside down with respect to the room. Our toes point towards Skaia, and when we look up, there's Prospit in all it's glory, the skyline looking like it's about to fold and collapse into us, like that scene from Inception. The city’s not crumbling - I don’t think I can imagine a Prospit in ruins, and it retains its mystical grandeur despite the sight being nothing new for me.

 

The shepherd’s purse seems to hang from above like frozen, suspended raindrops. Kaori notices it, her beauty mark brought closer to her eyes with her smile.

 

“This view delivers on expectations, and then some,” Kaori grins. She kicks against the tower curving away from her. “Skaia… it really reminds you of Earth, doesn’t it?”

 

“Yeah,” I breathe. “Just as big… and blue…”

 

Kaori chuckles at my statement. “You’re such a dork.”

 

“I guess,” I shrug. “The dork who’s been taking care of you.”

 

“It’s nice,” Kaori leans on my shoulder, her eyes pointing towards the shepherd’s purse. “Thank you.”

 

“You’ll be adding more flowers now that you’re here, right?” I ask. “Liven it up in ways that I’m inadequate.”

 

She nods. “We all have our own strengths, dear. You’ve always been so thoughtful.”

 

“Yeah,” I return with a plaintive smile. But I slap my cheeks to shock myself, getting out of this quicksand of self-loathing I’m sinking into. I can’t have this attitude with Kaori around. Need. To. Cheer. Up!

 

Kaori eyes me, pensive, knowing exactly what I’m doing and keeping quiet. If she thinks I’m thoughtful, she’s miles ahead in how considerate a friend she can be.

 

“There’s so many things I want to tell you now that you’re here!” I tell her once my head’s out of the gutter. “I really want you to meet the White Queen. She can really help us out.”

 

“I heard about the incident,” Kaori replies. “But she does seem like a great person.”

 

“Mm!” I affirm, stretching my legs and kicking them lightly like treading water at the edge of a pool. “She’s told me about the God Tiers, and I’ve been keeping it from you but it sounds like a pretty big deal and has a lot to do with why we have dreamselves and-"

 

It takes me a while, but I realise that Kaori doesn’t seem as surprised or excited, and then it hits me. “Oh. Asuka’s probably already told you, huh?”

 

Kaori shrugs in apology. “Yeah. Sorry. If I’d known you’d wanted to tell me I wouldn’t have rained on your parade.”

 

“I’m not sure if pitying me that way is a good or bad thing,” I laugh. “Should’ve known, since you and Asuka are pretty tight.”

 

“That’s not entirely wrong…” she trails off.

 

I shift in my seat. “Didn’t you go to her place like every other day last year?” I say. “I know Asuka can be… more distant these days, that silly goose, but that’s a kind of history that doesn’t just erase itself like that."

 

“Hey,” she nudges me, almost leaning over. “You’re the one who has me over at their place, and now, even in my dreams I get to see you. Don’t get too jealous.”

 

I bump back into her, turning away to hide my flustered flush. “Hey, you’re the queen bee. Shouldn’t you be used to having others pine over you?”

 

Kaori grins as she leans back, gripping the window’s edge for balance as she gazes at Prospit above. “Yeah, I guess.”

 

“Did she tell you about your classpect as well?”

 

“As a matter of fact,” Kaori replies. “She didn’t. Asuka knows, definitely, but I think she wanted me to discover these things on my own or something.”

 

I rub my hands in glee. “Well, keep searching!” My smile falls by a fraction after remembering the White Queen’s words. “The White Queen… well she’s like your well meaning but er… prejudiced grandmother, you know? She worries for you, given how your aspect doesn’t seem to align with a Prospit dreamer.”

 

“Aspectism huh?” Kaori scoffs. “Yeah I kinda know? Yuuko didn’t paint her in a very nice light but I guess it is what it is. So, should I actually be worried?”

 

“Welllll,” I drag out, stalling for time to collect my words. “The Hero of… Doom always sounds foreboding, doesn’t it?”

 

“It does,” Kaori agrees. “So I’m the secret emo child who has to deal with death and skulls and heavy metal?”

 

I bump into her with my shoulder again. “Hey stop taking digs at me! When we get back to Earth, I’m definitely dragging you to a concert.”

 

Kaori raises her hands in surrender. “Just saying,” she grins. “Anyway, the queen has a point. I’m not sure if I want to manifest my abilities if they result in… the heavy, bloody stuff-“

 

“That’s what she and I discussed,” I say. “Thankfully your class seems to well… circumvent bad omens and stuff? I mean, a Prince of Doom would be really doubling down and destructive but thankfully you’re pretty balanced.”

 

“Why thank you, Miss Sylph,” Kaori gives a mock curtsy, holding the edges of her gown. “I won’t push for my full classpect. I’m sure my land has answers for me.”

 

“Yeah,” I reply. “I hope you’ll have me over soon.”

 

My fingers are crossed behind my back, because before this I’ve never really been close to Kaori. Sure, she’s my treasurer and we’ve basically grown up together in the same cohort, but… she’s always been so far away. Even our times spent alone together had the shadow of responsibility looming over us, two girls just trying to figure things out about what’s best for the fifty, sixty other students in their charge. These past few days are the closest we’ve ever been on a personal level, and I guess I have Asuka’s withdrawals to thank - more so than back in school. But it still seems forced, and I don’t want us to always be this way-

 

“Sure,” Kaori smiles, and it’s the smile of hers I’ve come to love. Deep, passionate red in her eyes; the gentle swaying of her fringe in the breeze; her pink lips framed by her soft cheeks. A kind of earnest honesty that you won’t get from Asuka, that you won’t get from many people these days.

 

“Thanks,” I reply, almost breathless, probably returning with the goofiest smile on my face as the tears threaten to swim in my eyes.

 

* * *

 

The second night - or day here in Prospit (is there even day or night here?) - I curl up with bedsheets and pillows from my dream-room. They remain here, establishing my little crook for me to get all comfy in.

 

I fill the empty pot with a tiny growth of shepherd’s purse, a gift from a florist who gets her stock from farmers on the Battlefield. The soil is loamy and smooth to the touch, and I set it on the window-sill, watering it. 

 

The rest of my time is spent with patience, and with a tinge of longing nestled in my stomach. I glance over at Kaori, content and satisfied being able to be with her.

 

On the third night, I get to work with some renovations. Asuka and Nozomi have managed to hook up some modifications to Sburb to allow some tinkering with the architecture of our dream abodes, make it more of a second home. I change the windows from the standard cathedral type to a rectangular one because it frames the shepherd’s purse nicer, I think. Kaori would appreciate the more angular, geometric edges than the triangular curves. Asuka would make a joke about how there’s no more need for arches of prayer when we’re the gods around here.

 

I also install the safety net.

 

We can always revert things if they’re not to her taste.

 

On the fourth night, I decide that this is going to be my home away from home away from home. If Kaori’s over at my place in the waking world, in the domain of the dreaming I’d rather be at hers. She doesn’t seem to mind anyway, cracking jokes about whether I’m using sharpies to draw weird things on her face. 

 

Again, I lie in bliss. The window looks great, and I’ve already familiarised myself with the minimalist furniture in the room. From the table where Kaori pulls all nighters studying, to the neatly stacked books on her bookshelf, to her modest wardrobe. I take in every detail, content to rest and recover and reflect. The silence is healing, and there’s work to be done here, but I won’t start without Kaori.

 

Moments before I drift off into dreamless sleep, that liminal space of consciousness between this world and the other, that black void between this body and my other, I think of Kaori, as I always seem to these days. About doing right by her, about the right she’s done by me, about her. I see her peaceful, sleeping self and I want to be able to preserve that peace for the rest of my days to come.

 

_I’m waiting for you on this side, Kaori, waiting for you to wake up. I’ll be here for you when you do._

_And I’ll be here for as long as it takes, as long as you want me._

 

* * *

  

Emotions tend to overwhelm me more so than others, the waterworks flowing like pipes sorely in need of good plumbing.

 

But Kaori’s astute enough let me settle down, and the tears don’t arrive. Just as well.

 

We spend the next hour or so just chatting, reminiscing Kitauji days and trivial topics we’ve never really gotten to talk about much. Kaori requests for me to recount some of the stories I’ve had on mainland Prospit, but I didn’t get to interact with carapacians much. The conversation detours back into our role as seniors, about our final year of high school, or current lack thereof.

 

“You know I used to think that graduating would be so far away,” I say. “Then this year came, and with the presidency everything just flew by in a flash… but now it’s back to being a distant dream.”

 

“I guess we now have a taste of what it’s like to miss the others,” Kaori sighs. “And the juniors too. I know that technically we haven’t stepped down yet, but it sure feels like it. I wonder how they’ll handle things.”

 

“The current second years are a tough batch,” I tell her. “They’ll hold up fine.”

 

“Speaking of which,” Kaori says. “You already had certain successors in mind, right? I know Asuka never commits until she has to, but I remember you telling me pretty flat out that-“

 

My face must’ve been too telling, because Kaori pauses before I get to interrupt her. “Well… I think Yuuko would be pretty surprised if I still named her after all this.”

 

Kaori turns to face me now, concern in her garnet eyes. “Did something happen between you two?”

 

“Nothing, really,” I shrug. “She shut me down pretty hard in front of the White Queen and the others. Kinda attacked my personality..? Nah that’s a stretch if I really wanted to take offence, which I don’t, but-“

 

“She didn’t tell me that,” Kaori frowns. “You need me to reprimand her, or-“

 

“No, no! No need,” I shake my head. “She already apologised after, and it really was a small thing when things were heated and I don’t think she wants to worry you. Still, things are kinda awkward…”

 

Kaori takes my hands, massaging them. “They’ll be fine,” she assures me. “Yuuko gets over things quickly.”

 

“Yeah, she does,” I agree. “She’s strong, just like the others… unlike me.”

 

“Haruka-“ Kaori starts.

 

“No,” I put up a finger. “You don’t have to mother me or comfort me out of this one. People have been bashing me quite a bit of late, and I guess I kinda deserve it-“

 

“You don’t-“

 

“Wait,” I plead. “I get where they’re coming from. The second years have had it rough, and well… I’m soft. There’s no denying that. Mentally and emotionally I’m pretty weak - even physically, now that it counts - and it’s not like virtue has much bearing when you’re woefully incompetent. I’ve been called out on that quite a bit.”

 

Kaori has an uncomfortable, pained expression. “I’ve heard about Nozomi. I don’t think she should’ve done that.”

 

“It doesn’t matter,” I sigh. “It was a wake up call, I guess? But my stance still stands. I don’t want to take up a leadership role in all this when it really doesn’t suit me. I want to be able to step back from all the stress to be myself, but that doesn’t mean I want to continue being useless."

 

 

I hold Kaori’s hands now, my grip tighter than before. “The White Queen offered to help me, help us. Get in touch with our abilities, provide us with the information we need, become stronger. I wanna get stronger, Kaori."

 

“That’s good, Haruka,” she smiles. “I’ve never seen you as weak - and I think you’re really brave to be where you are now even if you don’t believe it. Sure, you’re lacking in some parts, but aren’t we all?"

 

“Yeah,” I reply. “But you know what I mean. I’m lacking more than others in areas that matter."

 

“And that’s okay,” Kaori insists. “You don’t owe anyone anything.”

 

I nod my head. “I know. I think it’s okay to be weak, but then you can’t complain when shit hits the fan and you feel inadequate and useless when you could’ve done more to be better. And I want to help, I want to contribute and make things count. I want to earn my title, not just have it, and maybe I can become a president that I can be proud of."

 

Kaori tilts her head a fraction as she smiles. “And you’ll have my full support, all the way. I’ll always have your back."

 

“I know,” I reply, as I lean towards Kaori. “But I don’t want your support. I want to do this together with you, Kaori. I want to get stronger with you.”

 

She seems rather taken aback, eyes wide as she processes my statement. “Why- I- … Thank you, Haruka.”

 

“I just… I don’t want to always feel like I’m behind, you know?” I say. “I know you don’t mean it that way, but it always feels like you and Asuka have to push me on, filling in my many gaps and being the foundation to prop me up… I don’t want that anymore. I want to be your equal, and I guess that begins by not having to rely on you all the time. I want to have your back too.”

 

I’m terrible at reading people, the tiny nuances holding little to no meaning to me. But although I don’t know the specifics, I can tell that Kaori’s mind pushes itself as she listens, and then understands, and then accepts. Her face is blank for a moment, but it’s just a moment, and then it rests into recognition, as she places her forehead on mine.

 

“Alright, Haruka. I’ll walk alongside you, by your side.”

 

“Thank you,” I grin.

 

"I just want you to know,” she starts, and like me, she struggles to form her ideas into words. “That no matter what the juniors might think… I think… no, I know… that you’re a great person and a great leader. Being close to Asuka… I know that she didn’t turn down the presidency just because she didn’t want to, but because she couldn’t _be_ the president. She saw a crumbling club on the brink of destruction and decided ‘nope, I can’t handle that’. But you did, and… slowly but surely, the band is better with you around.”

 

I try to open my mouth, but the words don’t really come out. “Y… you think s-so?”

 

“I know so,” Kaori laughs, and I can see a tiny droplet of water form in her left eye. “Us third years… we’ve all been watching you. We see how far you’ve come, working so hard on your bari-sax, how you’ve carried the band on your shoulders. You were scared, but you’re also impossibly hopeful, a tad naive, and you have the courage to improve, to take up challenges beyond you and continue pushing on even when you fail.” Kaori now wipes away her tear as she lets out a long breath.

 

“If that doesn’t make you a great leader… I don’t know what does.”

 

The next few minutes we spend in silence, and I take the time to internalise what Kaori’s told me. It wasn’t just some motivational speech to pick me up, but rather her sincere feelings and observations, culminating in her frustration at seeing the way I treat myself. It’s an incredibly humbling experience, being told what you’ve done right.

 

And I don’t know how to thank her. So for now, I don’t.

 

I sniff back my tears as I let a few trickle down my cheek, and Kaori doesn’t comment. We stay seated next to each other, looking at the bright, beautiful world beneath us.

 

“That’s been some heavy stuff,” I grin, closing my weary eyes. “I think I’m gonna go rest up a bit. You alright with that?”

 

“Sure,” Kaori replies. “I think I want to enjoy this view just a bit more.”

 

“Alright then,” I tell her, as I lean my head against her shoulder, hand in hers as I drift off, the cool clouds of Skaia finding their embrace in me, and I dream in my dream, shifting through the darkness leading into a limbo, and then reality...

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

…and I’m awake.

 

It’s hard to remember how you got into a dream when you’re in a dream, and Prospit isn’t much different. Only now do I remember the late night Kaori and I spent in my room, poring over material Asuka dumped on us, books from this world and our home obtained through an unknown source.

 

I’m upright, in the same position back on Prospit, an unfinished book resting in my lap… and just a few inches away from me I can see Kaori, almost drooling into the sheets, her book tucked away beneath her chest as she’s sprawled across my bed.

 

Dawn peeks through the windows, signifying yet another day. I glance towards the blessing of Skaia, its tender light, knowing that Kaori’s looking at the same blue sky as I am, the same beacon of hope so far away yet so close.

 

And I snuggle up to her warm body, wishing for more moments like this, hoping that this dream will never end.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap.
> 
> Haruka and Kaori are very important to me, and I really enjoyed this chapter (which is also pretty long, just shy of 4k words).
> 
> Thank you for reading my story.
> 
> P.S. I'm having trouble finding a link for the second song, which specifically is the Demo version. I've uploaded a version (but the site isn't v high quality) and please tell me if the link stops working or if you have another link to the song. Thank you.


	37. Somnum Nox 2.2.5.1 (Mizore)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second chapter of a double chapter update! Go back and read the previous (much longer) chapter if you haven't done so yet.

_Weeks later, but not many._

 

My eyelids flutter open.

 

Where am I?

 

It’s darkness all around me. Like literally all around. It’s almost like a nightmare, the void itself, until I remember that it is. The Furthest Ring, beyond The Veil and Derse, independent of time and space.

 

I’m lost, and I’ll never go back.

 

A quick glance at my sleeves and it’s nothing I have in my wardrobe. A purple gown as comfortable as feathers confirms my suspicions. So this is the dreamself that the others have been talking about.

 

Basically, I’ve been sleepwalking, drifting aimlessly through the abyss. It’s a shame that I’ve never and probably will never see Derse, but whatever. There’s not much I can do about that anyway.

 

My memory tries to catch up with my consciousness, and there’s a splitting headache, and basically my entire body hurts. I’ve never felt like this since I woke up after being transported into the Medium, and even then… ugh. This sucks.

 

Despite now having to bob around in the literal middle of nowhere until I sleep again, and gripping with the usual existentialist crises of whether I’m still me, the million dollar question hangs in my head. Why has it taken so long for me to finally awake? Why now?

 

I look down at my chest, and I remember the answer.

 

“Ah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anybody wondering where Mizore is.  
> Here’s to another end of arc.  
> I couldn’t bear to cheat y’all with just this as an update on the coming Tuesday, so it’s a double chapter update today!
> 
> Now, news.
> 
> Soundscape will be on a hiatus for exactly the next two months. I know this doesn’t sound promising, considering that I haven’t come out of hiatus for my previous three series (even those with a higher word count *cough*). However I think it’s safe to say that I’m invested enough in this to see it through the end.
> 
> Two main reasons: the past month has been killing me. I started on Soundscape in December (even though I posted only in Jan), writing the bulk of the first arc then. I got really lazy in January and February - along with wisdom teeth extractions and the works, so by the time the second arc started, I burned through all my buffer and would stay up to finish writing and hit the update schedule. Not exactly very productive, procrastinating and having to churn this out like a report due three times a week since the start of March and I’m worried how the quality might’ve suffered. So I’m planning on building a solid buffer, and maybe there won’t be any more long breaks till the completion of the story.
> 
> But I’ll also be on holiday for like, a full month. The chances of any readers being in Europe and willing to hit me up are slim (whatever did parents say about meeting weird strangers over the Internet) but I’ll be in the area throughout most of May.
> 
> Thank you so, so much for keeping up with my story thus far. I’m really excited to continue writing it, and your support is very much appreciated. I’ll still be here to talk and answer comments and you can also reach me on my very dead tumblr (vesta-xx).
> 
> Soundscape returns June 6th, Tuesday. The third arc is gonna be pretty sweet. Until then, take care, and thank you for reading my story.


	38. Jazz Improv 3.1.1 (Hazuki)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first in a quadruple chapter update. You can read the first four chapters of Jazz Improv in any order. Enjoy.

[♪] [Tank! - The Seatbelts](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n6jCJZEFIto) [♪]

 

Earphones in.

 

Yeah, I got a good rhythm~

 

The bass line kicks in, dictating the flow pulsing through both sides of my head. I can imagine Midori in kickass sunglasses and a dapper black suit just plucking away, and that’s a mental image that can spur me on to greatness.

 

The real [Midori](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9367745/chapters/24771867) whizzes about like a magician, a blurry shape diving in and out of the smoke and fog. Her sandy brown robes match her hair, with sleeves opening down to the waist. It covers a modest, darker brown dress stopping just above her knees. 

 

The last I spot of her is her ribbon clip before she whisks herself away, brown swirling into grey.

 

Elsewhere, [Kumiko](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9367745/chapters/24771927) and [Reina](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9367745/chapters/24772365) are facing off against their respective opponents. I can spot Reina from the corner of my eye, carving havoc and taking to the skies.

 

But this is about me.

 

_Ok, 3, 2, 1, let's jam._

 

My mind shifts gears, and the corridors of smoke become school hallways, and I’m eight years old, back in elementary school all over again. I’m playing tag with my friends to a soundtrack of epic high brass, the action sketched in strokes of sakuga-animated brilliance. 

 

I can imagine the camera swooping low beneath my feet, tracking my motion in an upwards angle as I run while avoiding the reflections. Each reflection is an eerie copy, about six in total as they pounce out of the smoke in an almost cartoon like fashion. When they collide with me, punches and kicks grazing skin, I can almost see the ‘sound effects’, flying past like bullets whizzing in lines.

 

And in a typical hero fashion, I stop running, turn around, and stand my ground.

 

“Come on!”

 

My challenge doesn’t come unanswered! The six reflections surround me, and each have their turns brawling with me. It’s a sprawling mess of limbs and bruises. A series of sidesteps, blocks, and counterattacks.

 

_Wham! Pow! Bam!_

_Oof!_ Hng _! Yah!_

 

Each impact elicits its own comic book like sound, each attack dealt brings forth the weird sounds people make when they’re fighting. It’s a lot more fun if I can think of things in this way. Like a story you can boast about to your friends later.

 

A reflection lunges towards me, and I tuck in my chin, lowering my head and pivoting on my left foot as I bring forth a straight with my right hand. My arm passes through said reflection, as it takes advantage of my momentum, forming behind me and jabbing me with a kick to the back.

 

"Hey! Ouch!”

 

I stumble, but take back the momentum, driving my right foot deep into the ground as I rebound like against the taut strings of a boxing ring, and charge back at them. My shoulder connects with a reflection, and I make sure to protect my head as I tackle them. Pushing them back, I reset my position and get ready for more.

 

Fighting’s kind of a sport as well. And although I’ve only had two weeks of practice, my body’s strong enough to deal with whatever punishment, and primed enough that there are solid enough fundamentals. There are techniques and drills, just like in basketball and tennis. In an actual match everything’s up for grabs, but even when one improvises on the fly, muscle memory more often than not shapes the way we move and react.

 

Three reflections come at me at once. The one in the center attempts to sweep me off my feet with a low kick. I jump, tucking my knees into my chest, just as the other two start flanking me, taking advantage of my airborne self.

 

On instinct, I twist my body such that my head and toes point to the flankers, and then I stomp hard on the one at my feet. My attack connects, and they’re pushed back, while my upper back and shoulder blades dig into the last reflection as I rocket myself into them. The smoky form cushions the impact, and I’m not left with a concussion.

 

Again, my body’s flung to the ground and I execute another flawless roll as I get to my feet. And I’m in awe of what just happened.

 

"Woaaaah, I did it!"

 

Nothing I explicitly planned for, but it feels really good to know that practice has paid off.

 

"I did it!” I shout again, punching a fist into the air. 

 

The reflections don’t look as amused, and I realise that I need to raise the stakes. Or at least intimidate them, if that’s even possible - and Katou Hazuki isn’t exactly the intimidating type. 

 

But I can hold my ground, any day.

 

One reflection steps forth from the crowd of six, beckoning and taunting.

 

My feet take the initiative, bouncing in small steps as I move forward. The both of us have our arms up covering our faces, muscles twitching as we jerk and fake out, neither going for the first move.

 

Then, I start us out with a simple hook.

 

The reflection dodges as usual, going for an uppercut that grazes my left ear as I shuffle away. I feel something on my arm as another reflection latches onto it, and in a motion I’m not expecting, they tug downwards. I don’t resist lest I dislocate my shoulder, and I roll over their backs, trying to get a good kick in as I flail.

 

I cause enough of a ruckus that the second reflection dissolves, only for the first one that was sparring with me earlier to pounce on me. I roll away as they connect with the ground, dissipating into smoke before reforming, and the both of us are at it again.

 

“I’d appreciate just a one on one,” I grin, spitting out the iron I’m tasting in my mouth. “If y’all are anything like me. Let’s have some sportsmanship, yeah?”

 

This time the reflection initiates, going in for a tackle in an attempt to grapple me to the ground. I twist so that their body connects with my back instead of my torso, but I suck in air anyway to tighten my core to stabilise myself. My right arm goes into a choke hold to grab their head sticking through, and in a single motion, I bring my left fist down to the back of their head, and bring up my knee at the same time to sandwich them. It would’ve been a devastating blow to a normal person, but they ain’t normal.

 

Instead of dissolving, they take the blow, and although they don’t feel pain, they sort of stumble to the side, as though conceding defeat.

 

And then, I feel another reflection pouncing on my back.

 

“Hup!” I shout, as I make use of momentum again, and bring the reflection over in a toss, and then slam them hard into the ground.

 

Once again, the smoke cushions me such that I don’t break any limbs. The two reflections I’ve seemingly taken out don’t return, instead hiding behind the pack of six.

 

Four more to go.

 

All four charge me.

 

“One after another eh?” I pant, breathless, knowing that this has to end soon.

 

And with a flourish that I’ve practiced just for the sake of looking super cool this once, I brandish my newly alchemized weapon, and in a deep voice, announce my line.

 

“It’s _hammer time!_ ”

 

Shaking my weapon with bravado, I bellow a war cry of my own as I charge head first into the crowd. A single swing already makes them more cautious, and I continue pushing forward. When I practiced with Reina, she made me visualise it like a tennis racket. There are forearms, backhands, the logic of power and position somewhat equal. Two-handed grips pack more punch but sacrifice mobility and flexibility. A slice might hit a good angle but there isn’t much weight to it.

 

Almost all of that consciousness goes out of the window. Because the knowledge is already in my bones, indiscriminate from whatever weird part of me ‘knows’ how to walk or run or cheer. And with a weapon, I feel like a real superhero now, Thor without the flashy lightning - but Thor alone is already super, super badass.

 

As far as intimidation goes, this is plenty.

 

The music ups its ante into a swanky forte-seemo (or whatever really loud means) and I’m at the top of the world, the queen of the jungle, lashing out with wild abandon. The reflections almost cower now even as they weave in and out of my weapon’s path, the smoke hissing with distaste as though they really don’t wanna be hit. It’s exhilarating, finally having the upper hand, the fear slowly leaving my body along with fatigue. And I could do this forever, maybe even get rid of these reflections once and for all, and show them that I’m the only Hazuki worthy of being, that I’m the best-

 

…wait. No.

 

Nah.

 

The reflections don’t have expressions, but as I lower my weapon to my side, catching my breath from all that swinging, I can see one clearly on the ground cowering before me. It’s not… it’s not right. It kinda sucks, because that’s me. That could be me, helpless, scared, powerless. The other reflections seem cautious, keeping their berth. They fan out around me, and I drop to my knee, and extend the handle of my mallet towards the reflection.

 

“Hey. This is a pretty cool thing, you know? You wanna… have a go?”

 

And then, I move before I can tell what’s actually going on. Something zips through the smoke from behind, and the hand that was offering the hammer seems to jerk, as does my whole body, as though blocking the reflection.

 

An arrow appears on the back of my hand, piercing it. I drop the hammer in shock.

 

“…eh?”

 

Everything seems to stop. I’m perplexed and so are the reflections and I can only see my blood trickle down my fingers and I realise that somehow, I’ve just protected a reflection, supposedly murderous beings that I tried to befriend because they look like me - of course they look like me - and er.

 

_"EHHHH?!?"_

 

The drums and cymbals and brass crash one more time between my ears, and then the song ends.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the third arc of Soundscape!
> 
> As you can see, we’re already into the thick of things. Some time has passed since the second arc - you’ll see how the girls have grown. And we’re returning with not one, not two, not even three, but with a quadruple chapter update! I have some thoughts about this chapter that you can read here: http://vesta-xx.tumblr.com/post/161508230046/jazz-improv-311-thoughts
> 
> Jazz Improv is essentially the beginning of the second act in a traditional three act structure for a given story, the rising action, if you will. It’s gonna be a rollercoaster that’s only headed up, with lots of new things being tested and tried - that goes for both our characters and the story.
> 
> It’s been quite a break, but we’re ready to keep going! And hopefully there will be a few more arcs before our next hiatus.


	39. Jazz Improv 3.2.1 (Midori)

[♪] [Rustless Fall - Gabe "zorg" Stilez](https://homestuck.bandcamp.com/track/rustless-fall) [♪]

 

Skaia sparkles through the haze, and so do my reflections. [Reina’s](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9367745/chapters/24772365) come here to conquer, [Kumiko’s](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9367745/chapters/24771927) come back to prove herself. [Hazuki’s](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9367745/chapters/24771798) come to fight, a challenger against her own odds, black blazer tied around her bare waist, maroon sports bra and capri tights to match her aspect. Her fists are wrapped up, and she wears her bold, patented look of determination without making it look the least bit grim.

 

But me?

 

I’m here to have _fun._

 

Space becomes a lot more intuitive the more you handle it, like music. It bends and molds to your will, a distinct flavour of melody exposing itself every time you prod at it. My reflections don’t worry me one bit because they will dance around me cause I’m the hot milky mess in the center of the universe. Everything revolves around me, sliding slick like water on oil.

 

And all this still applies, as I continue to fall, a shooting star towards the earth, space curling through my hair. I thought I’d have to force myself to smile, but the laughter comes without resistance, my small body high on adrenaline. I’m shot right through with euphoria, and I count the seconds before I hit the ground.

 

_Let’s go._

 

I wink out of existence, zipping diagonally upwards twice, the distance between the earth widened. I’m a cavorting asteroid, curving through the misty skies, my reflections having a hard time keeping up. My shrieks echo throughout this mountainous landscape, half-banshee, but I don’t care. I’m just enjoying myself so much!

 

Just inches before I slam into a mountain face, I shoot upwards, changing trajectory almost like a ricochet. Small bursts are accompanied by large, thoughtful blinks, and as I travel I try to remember the way space cradles my palm. A thousand fleeting moments escape me, and I just want to burn every single one of them into my memory.

 

With a light push, I let myself fall again, accelerating as the world around me seems to collapse. My eyes track the horizon line, leading into the peak of one of the other mountains. Can I make it up there in one blink? Nah, that’d be suicidal. It would take at least three, maybe four.

 

Before reaching the floor, I dart left, giving myself enough time to transfer my velocity so that I don’t go splat. A reflection tries to solidify to hurt me on impact, but I simply curve around it, and let my feet drag across the ashen surface as I slow down. The brakes go on, and finally, I’m still. Inertia is just another state of being, of existing.

 

“Now,” I announce to beings incapable of listening. “I’ll play along with you for a bit.”

 

The first reflection dashes forward, but it just dissipates into the wind, like light refracting away and I feel the space between us expanding. A second disintegrates, realising that form cannot hope to hold me, but I wrap the space around them, compressing whatever essence that gives it an identity into a sphere, then letting that sphere just float and exist.

 

Much of the aspect of Space has very much to deal with making sense of the abstract, the immaterial into material, the physical into the particle. It is about observing, and then acting, and sometimes you understand, but very often you don’t. You submit to the flow before taking it at the reins for yourself, a harmonious cycle that seeks completion that only you can give.

 

The others collapse on me at once, responding to my hunger for a challenge, a problem for me to solve in the most interesting way possible. I leap up, and then let the momentum carry itself. A shot to the left as I begin blinking again, passing through the reflections in a cacophony of activity. I’m almost a pinball confined in a machine of my own making, striking different targets in complex permutations to not necessarily rack up the highest score, but weave a story never told. 

 

My inner artist rears its head, and I’m sketching constellations with my trail, connecting the imaginary stars with my body. Next I attempt to control my curves - never mind whatever mathematical nonsense for the equations of parabolas and tangents. I get an instinctual feel of what it means to draw slopes, twisting into steep shapes and contorting my surroundings to fit my pictures of flowers and dragons.

 

And in the process I distort the distortions, the reflections an amalgamation of form that can no longer seem to function or dissociate, a mass of smoke and light just sitting there. Once I’m dizzy enough, I slow down, and then remain back to my still self. Despite the haphazard thoughts in my mind, my emotions feel clearer and calmer than ever before, and the reflections don’t react in any way. 

 

No more of them materialise to harass me. It’s just me now, and the incongruous shapes I’ve made.

 

“You all look so sad,” I sigh, to no one in particular. The mass doesn’t react, just churns within itself like a stew broiling over a small flame.

 

“I’ll put you out of your misery,” I give a plaintive grin, and my tiny fingers flex themselves, and I imagine that I’m holding a ball. Not a basketball, or a beach ball… just a ball. I feel the rubber… or is it plastic? beneath my fingertips, press gently against its firm yet elastic surface, and then compress.

 

The shapes combine into a single entity, a form of unity and perhaps solidarity. Into a small black sphere, sealed within the confines of space. 

 

I feel both very large and very small, with such powers at my disposal, yet the universe is uncaring and life goes on, and I’m still at the mercy to its laws and its whims. I’m still here.

 

I miss home.

 

With a snap, the sphere shrinks until it is small enough to be a bead. A tiny, tiny little thing, just like me. I attach it to my left earlobe, held in place by the magic that governs this place.

 

“I’m just borrowing them,” I say out loud, as though addressing the land. Echidna’s taught me to be wary of the planets themselves, very much like Skaia. The space they occupy and the ground they give… they deserve our respect. We take care of our temples and we take care of our lands. “I’m no master, not one who can create or destroy, give or take. I’m just a guest here, and I hope I’m not overstaying my welcome.”

 

I give a single, low bow. “I’m only here to serve. And I hope I’ve done that right."

 

Something’s changed, I think. Just moments ago I was carefree and careless, but now it’s like I’ve shackled myself. I’ve come here with the intent of cutting loose as a reward for my further mastery, and it was fun, but you can’t always have fun, right? As much as it is a party-pooper, there are some things I have to face. 

 

It’s not like it’s gonna be all doom and gloom. There’s something nice about it all, not necessarily jubilation, but positive nonetheless.

 

My robes feel a bit too big, now. There’ll be some growing into I’ll have to do. And being here reminds me of that.

 

I’m glad.

 

If I’m ever to be larger than myself… there’s a long path ahead.

 

But for now, I think I can be proud of my progress. Even side characters have their own arcs, right? After all, the protagonist of each story is merely a point of view. The frame with which we view a moment, the context for each triumph and defeat, each rise and fall.

 

It seemed impossible, once upon a time, but now I think I can take the center of my own stage.

 

With a flourish, I take to the skies, Skaia still sparkling like tiny jewels in my eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you've noticed, there's a little gimmick that allows you to access each of the four first year's chapters. I hope you enjoy the rest of this update!
> 
> A bit of a writeup: It could be said that part of Midori’s ability is similar to Tracer’s (from Overwatch). She can bend and even ‘create’ space of sorts, shortening and elongating certain distances that gives her the effect of teleportation of super speed, or just being able to not be hit at all. Midori’s really coming into her element here.
> 
> She’s more wrapped up in self efficacy in a boost to her self esteem. Like Jade, much of Midori’s journey is in coming to terms with herself and her abilities, and Jade might’ve seemed like she had a lot more room to grow, but I’d argue that in-universe the entirety of Act 1 to 5 (Jade’s only introduced in 3 I think) was in the span of a single day. It’s been some times (weeks, even) since the girls have entered the Medium.


	40. Jazz Improv 3.3.1 (Kumiko)

Hello darkness, my

 

[♪] [Old Friends - Darren Korb](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ql8K3KJyWgY) [♪]

 

The atmosphere is heavy with nostalgia, the smudged ink figures of my reflections smelling like gloomy jazz. There's an imperceptible rhythm dictating the flow of events, each of us four with our own agenda.

 

[Reina's](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9367745/chapters/24772365) a nova in her own right, golden dress fluttering around her like the blinding rays of a star. She's a concentrated point of light radiating outwards, a visual anchor amidst the storm of smoke brewing around us. I sense [Hazuki](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9367745/chapters/24771798) not too far away, with the crunching of gravel beneath her feet. [Midori’s](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9367745/chapters/24771867) somewhere, elsewhere. I can’t really tell.

 

And I’m left alone, clutching onto my arched, oak staff, shivering for my dear life. I can feel the distorted reflections creeping on me. No other way out of this.

 

Three fingers on the string, just like I practiced. I pull back, feeling the tension in the wood, the knot in my stomach tightening. The arrow quivers in my grasp, and I let it fly, the tip sailing into the unknown. I don’t even hear anything. As if sticks and stones could do anything to these incorporeal creatures. The thought that I could’ve done anything is borderline depressing.

 

Reina can simply blow them away, utilise the world around her to decimate her opponents in a thousand creative ways. Midori shifts the fabric of reality itself, pulling the rug beneath her opponents. Hazuki has a dogged determination and athleticism that I can’t hope to make up for. What good is a Seer of Heart? What useful abilities could possible come from a ‘hero’ like that?

 

I steady my hands, paying attention to my breathing just like Reina taught me to. The anxiety alleviating exercises, something, anything. I’m just not cut out for fighting, but that’s what I’ve come here for, right?

 

Last time I was helpless. I don’t want it to be like that anymore, even though I’m not sure what’s changed since then.

 

Hand to quiver, fingers to arrow. Before coming, Hazuki said I looked like an explorer - only missing the accompanying bucket hat. Midori likened me to a modern day Amazon, the most flattering compliment of my life. Her distressed screaming flares throughout the land, and I try to think happy thoughts.

 

My grip on my bow tightens, and I steel myself for a second of resolve, mustering my fragile spirit to harden into stone. Think of an arrow that can pierce through souls. And I let go of the taut string.

 

And this one connects. Somehow. I hear the clink of metal, the thud of an impact, followed by a wail like steam being released from a kettle. The high pitched hiss is like a lighthouse, drawing the others in, lost ships now given harbour, all steered towards me. 

 

They do not look happy.

 

I begin to panic again, and send two more arrows flying into the mist in quick succession, neither having the penetrative effect of before. As a last ditch resort, I take three arrows at once, attempting to fire them all together like in the movies. It doesn’t quick work out that way, one slipping from my fingers and falling to the floor. When I let go of the string, one goes sailing upwards, and the other dives in a pathetic arc that plops no more than five meters ahead of me.

 

The twisted reflections close in, and I can feel their oppressive presence almost choking me. They’re not dressed like me today, instead opting for a plain blouse and a skirt so low that I don’t see their legs. Just like ghostly apparitions, swishing from side to side, floating around me.

 

My bow doubles as a staff precisely for close-combat encounters like these - and it’s ridiculously long so that I might just have a greater reach. But I realise by now that taking these foes head on isn’t the answer. Not my answer.

 

“Um,” I start, attempting to draw out whatever Heart powers I might have, but to no avail. “I really don’t want to fight you all, but-“

 

My words freeze in my throat. The reflections converge on each other, almost occupying the same space but not necessarily fusing, the slight difference in their movements coming across as a trippy afterimage, and I imagine this is what it’s like to be tipsy. And then without warning, they pass right through me.

 

I’d expected it to be cold, or maybe warm? Temperature is a funny thing - in both extremes it’s just pain and sorrow anyway. This wasn’t like that. Imagine your insides being stirred, and then vomiting your essence out such that it’s like an out-of-body experience, and have that essence squeezed out like a tomato without the juice. My face probably looks like a pale tomato from the fatigue, and the paradox doesn’t escape me.

 

It’s deeply unpleasant and uncomfortable, and my tongue feels all numb and bitter, the aftertaste like mouldy rain. The reflections swerve around, turn back and the faceless void stares at me, curious and observing.

 

_kkuuUMIIIiikko_

 

What was that?

 

The reflections now wrap around my legs, slithering like an eel, and I feel two clammy hands embrace my shoulders as I shut my eyes tight. If this is the end, I’ve had a good run. They’ll find my body drained of blood and life, and one of the three will kiss me - maybe Hazuki won’t, but I think she’ll be able to get over herself if it means saving her friend’s life - and I’ll awake on Derse and hope that my dreamself isn’t dead, and then never come back or bother reclaiming my house-

 

_kuumiikooo…_

 

Softer now, like darkness crawling through my closed eyes. The smoke seems heavier now, as though it’s congregating around me, but it feels… lighter. No longer a thick fog for me to choke on, but like a lullaby humming from scented candles. 

 

My eyes jolt open as I feel a shiver from my toes all the way to the very tip of my head, as the reflections enter from my back and exit out the front of my chest, and they continue looking at me all the same, before every last inch has travelled through me, and they remain just right in front of me. Floating, unmoving.

 

The staff-bow succumbs to gravity’s pull and clatters on the ground. For a moment, the reflections’ faces flicker, and I can make out a semblance of an expression.

 

Then they all seem to snap into place, and now there’s only two Kumikos. There’s me, and there’s… her.

 

“I guess you’ll want to talk.”

 

It’s my voice, but it’s not coming from me. The Kumiko in front of me shrugs, before sitting down on a rock seeming to appear out of nowhere. She beckons for me to sit next to her.

 

“Heart to heart,” she hums, and I comply, staring into a face that’s my own, but one that I can’t recognise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third chapter in a quadruple chapter update! Hope it's been enjoyable so far.


	41. Jazz Improv 3.4.1 (Reina)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last in a four chapter update. Read from the start of the arc if you've missed out.

_Come._

[♪] [スタミナ勝負 - 林ゆうき](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mdH1OOk6Mbw) [♪]

 

[Hazuki](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9367745/chapters/24771798) on the ground. [Midori](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9367745/chapters/24771867) up and about. [Kumiko](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9367745/chapters/24771927) \- as unrefined and tomboy as usual - in olive jean shorts and a desert, collared button down, all dressed up for war. We each have our own battles.

 

And I have mine.

 

_I want to be special._

 

The distortions feed off the smoke, swarming beneath me like ants. It’s no good, the way they flake off like paper beneath my power. Even in numbers, they can hardly put up a fight.

 

This is not what I was waiting for.

 

Five ascend, and I make short work of them with the swipe of my hand, the air around me my unsheathed blade. Six more  attempt to restrain me, weaving around my limbs like snakes and then solidifying. No use - the wind howls, restless, an extension of my will. Gestures are a courtesy, a flair of showmanship. But I’m only performing for myself today.

 

I don’t even need to draw my trumpet.

 

The distortions hiss, my fingers curling into a goading gesture. One lashes out, only to get disintegrated immediately. My animosity rises, and the distortions become more bellicose in kind. I want to rile them because I want the best fight possible.

 

It's tough to be satisfied, knowing that my abilities are a hard counter to the creatures here. The only consolation is that I can protect Kumiko easily now.

 

_I want to be special._

 

Twelve now lurch forward and I hold them back with ease. More. I need more, or this will be hardly a challenge. All of you. Together. More.

 

Sensing my thoughts, the distortions start to meld into one another, blurring and refracting off Skaia’s glint as they finally get my intent, a Kousaka Reina worthy of standing up to me taking form, the lines around her figure thicker and clearer with each passing second. Every last distortion, half a hundred or maybe more, condensed into a single champion.

 

That’s right.

 

I take off, clearing the sickness of smoke, high and above the reach of the plague that hangs over this land. Before, the distortions were ensnared by their grey prison, but this one has the ability of flight, no longer limited by its physicality. The gates pass us by until gravity cannot hope to grasp at us.

 

We face each other, two lone figures in a tumultuous swirl of combat, her hair whipping about as the turbulent wind holds her, and she draws her trumpet. No longer a dull grey, but a silver that looks like it was cut from diamonds. I answer in kind as the air swells like a flower ripe for the blossom, trumpet in my right hand as the breath of the gods funnel through its golden chambers.

 

_I want to be special._

 

The first blow is hard, a strike right to my torso, but I push back, standing on solid clouds as I swing my weapon in a wide arc. I follow up with a passionate charge, all of my pride, my being, into an attack as the wind pierces through her, and she doesn’t flinch one bit.

 

_Not yet._

 

Her trumpet slams down on mine, cutting through her body which quickly reforms. I swing up, and she sidesteps it, one arm catching the bell as she uses the momentum to throw me upwards. 

 

_I want to be special._

 

She’s below me, vortexes forming at her feet, ready to propel her upwards, hitting me with enough force that will incapacitate me, if it doesn’t outright kill me.

 

_I want to be special._

 

No chance. The wind is my medium, and breath is me. I command the word of the living, the royal and the divine. I bring the mouthpiece to my lips, my lungs a vessel for power, weapon pointed straight at my opponent.

 

_I want to be special._

 

She charges. I breathe. A cannon of destruction rains from my lips, and then there is nothing. There is only me.

 

_I am special._

 

Victory lingers on my lips, the tangy metal sweet with the promise of more. I win, and as I come back down to earth, there isn’t a single enemy to greet me.

 

_And next time, even higher._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reina has come quite a bit since the last time we saw her. A swift and decisive victory for the prince.
> 
> This chapter is part of the four chapter update marking the return of Soundscape and the start of Jazz Improv! Be sure to check out the other chapters too if you haven’t already.


	42. Jazz Improv 3.1.2 (Hazuki)

[♪] [Premonition - Toby Fox](https://tobyfox.bandcamp.com/track/premonition) [♪]

 

Tomorrow's the big day.

 

Day fifteen, since we've entered the Medium. We've grown so much in that short span of time, but it doesn't feel like enough. When we return - or in my case, finally visit - the Land of Smoke and Mirrors, we'll be up again our toughest challenge yet.

 

Ourselves.

 

Dang… I’m not ready. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready.

 

I’m tossing and turning in my bed, finding sleep tough, even though my muscles are tired and worked out. Normally I would’ve crashed faster than waves onto a sandy beach at high tide, but I just can’t get into the mood tonight. I’m not a thinking person, so this comes as a surprise I have to tide myself through.

 

Reina and Midori have taken to their aspects quickly. Over the past two weeks, their abilities have grown almost exponentially, and the divide between those with a greater mastery and those without seems to grow. Kumiko seems to struggle with knowing that her abilities might not even have a combat function, and I’m just perplexed as to what mine could even mean.

 

_What is blood?_

 

Flesh, sacrifice, trust, Midori would tell me. The White Queen relayed as such, with the aspect of Blood being more abstract than others, much like Reina’s class of ‘Prince’. While I do have a penchant for bleeding and getting hurt, and my physical abilities are near the top of this motley crew, it apparently extends to be more than that? 

 

What’s the saying: blood is thicker than water? I heard somewhere that the phrase is more complicated but I don’t really know. But the point being that there’s much here to do with family, with relationships, with teamwork. And when you throw in my class of ‘Page’… I’m pretty stumped. I’m not slow on the take, it’s just that all this theory doesn’t resonate with me. I’d much rather be out in the field, practicing and exercising.

 

I guess that’s part of the nature of my aspect as well, huh.

 

My room’s not that big, but the four of us squeeze in just fine. Our sleeping bags arrange themselves in a single file - Midori, me, Kumiko and then Reina. Midori’s snug as a bug, tucked away beneath her puffy covers. Reina’s silhouette is rigid and unmoving, much like her determination and grit.

 

Somehow - whether it’s the breathing or the tiny movements that seem to catch my attention - I can tell that Kumiko’s like me. And that’s not surprising, because there have been many a day where Midori crows in the morning with our wake up calls and Kumiko looks like she hasn’t had a wink.

 

There’s just so much going on in that head of her.

 

“Psst…” I whisper, as low a voice as I can. “Kumiko, you awake?”

 

She becomes more stiff than usual, the corners of her eyes wrinkling a fraction more because she wants to hide her being awake, but I think she finds that it’s silly after a while as her facial features and body relax. There’s silence for a while, before she talks.

 

“I’m listening.”

 

“Are you um… anxious about tomorrow? Idunno… I just can’t find it in me to sleep.”

 

Kumiko rolls towards me now, parting her eyes just a little. “Well, I guess we’re awake for the same reasons, then.”

 

I let a grin ripple throughout my face. “Hey, I’m kinda new to this,” I tease. “How do you deal?”

 

“The same as always,” she shrugs. “Until I’m tired enough to even think.”

 

I give her a light kick through the sleeping bag, and she responds in kind, an almost playful, regretful smile forming on her face. “Different people deal with it differently, I guess. Not everyone’s an insomniac.”

 

“Yeah, I guess,” I reply. “What… what do you think will happen tomorrow?”

 

“Don’t know,” she sighs. “What I’ve learnt from so many nights of just… overthinking? Is that overthinking doesn’t really help. You can run through all possible permutations in your mind and you still… won’t be ready. There will still be things you won’t expect. And that’s… that’s okay.”

 

I nod. Makes sense, kinda. We can prepare, but in the end we’ll still have to go with the flow.

 

“Hey, Kumiko?” I ask, one last time. “What does ‘Heart’ mean to you?”

 

She shoots me a puzzled look, then glances to the ceiling for a while. Kumiko shuts her eyes as she replies me, as though picturing something in her head.

 

“Heart…” Kumiko trails off. “I would like to think it’s about courage. ‘Have heart’ and all, yeah? But it’s much more about being brave. Midori talks about the notion of ‘self’ and ‘wants and desires’ and… I’d like to think that maybe somewhere, love is in the equation? I don’t know…”

 

Kumiko chuckles to herself, her voice becoming softer. “Maybe it’s just a feeling in the end. That kind of sensation that bubbles in your chest. Happiness, sadness, anger, resolve… all these make up who you are. And having heart is about coming to terms with these emotions, and how they make you… you.”

 

“Alright,” I reply. “That was… that’s good, Kumiko. Thanks.”

 

I settle deeper into my sleeping bag, hearing nothing from Kumiko. I still have concerns and everything, and it’s not like our conversation answered any really burning questions… but somehow, talking made it better? 

 

Sleep comes much easier, after, but I can’t help but think that for once, Kumiko drifted off before me.

* * *

 

[♪] [Carefree Victory - Mark Hadley](https://homestuck.bandcamp.com/track/carefree-victory-2) [♪]

 

I… did it..?

 

The whoops and cries might be misconstrued as shrieks, but to my ears they’re sounds of joy. I fill myself lifted up, and pain seems to forget itself for a brief moment.

 

_I did it!_

 

Don’t know how, don’t care how, but it feels like a victory. It is a victory, if the reflections aren’t attacking me no longer and instead parading me about.

 

Okay, not parading… but more like, celebrating me, y’know? Oh, there’s also an arrow still stuck in my hand. Ha ha? I haven’t a clue as to what’s going on!

 

The next few minutes are a giddy blur in exclamation marks. I’m sweaty and caked in grime and red streams from a limp hand but I’m mighty enjoying myself. For the first time, the reflections seem to be accurate to themselves, that is to me. Which sounds kinda narcissistic but I don’t think any version of me would attack myself. Or anyone for that matter, if unprovoked.

 

And after the fanfare and the adrenaline has settled, my injury comes to the forefront of attention. The arrow’s a nasty thing, a shot in the dark. It must’ve been from Kumiko, a mis-shot or something. I’m not sure how it might’ve hurt the reflections. Maybe it’s laced in magic, dipped in witchy poison or whatever. The reflections huddle around me, grateful, as they tend to my wounds.

 

One snaps their fingers before my eyes, like an amateur magician before their act. The trick works, because immediately after, another yanks the arrow out, and I’m surprised enough that my bum lifts off the ground in a tiny jump, but distracted enough that the searing hot pain doesn’t immediately register.

 

It doesn’t really register, for that matter. Cool smoke seems to pour into my wound, vapour that prickles my skin but doesn’t sting it. I look at the reflections deep in concentration, holding me gently but firmly, as they help me out. I don’t heal immediately, but the bleeding stops. The marker like stains on my arms and fingers are cleaned up nicely.

 

“Thanks,” I grin, and even though it doesn’t show on their blank faces, I can tell that they’re smiling back. I even get the feeling that one of them tries to convey to me that I should get the wound bandaged to prevent further damage or infection. I make a mental note to do so back at Kumiko’s place.

 

And then, they lift me to my feet, stabilising me as I get my bearings. I’m still exhausted, and my muscles will be aching tomorrow, and when the smoke-magic fades off I’ll probably have a throbbing hand. But right now, I feel terrific.

 

The reflections steer me towards a general direction - back to the house I guess - and then we part ways. Even though it was short lived, and that we brawled with each other, they were great company.

 

As they gave me goodbye pats and I waved back, promising to see them soon, I feel a skip in my heart, a rush in my blood. I feel lighter, as though this was the best possible outcome. And it is.

 

I have new friends now.

 

* * *

[♪] [人生の流転 - 松田彬人](https://youtu.be/S-5GWwls5Iw?t=217) [♪]

 

“Hey, congrats!”

 

Midori uncloaks herself as she lands, her robes swooshing behind her. Her footsteps are light and brisk as she catches up to me.

 

"It worked out, yeah?”

 

We’re just outside Kumiko’s house, and I’m seated on a rock, massaging the arch of my feet with my knuckles. Reina’s perched on the roof, gazing into the smoke for a glimpse of Kumiko, patients waiting.

 

There’s a glance towards my bandaged palm, but no questions. 

 

“How was yours?” I ask.

 

“A bunch of fun. A bit of melancholy,” she replies, rocking back and forth on her feet. "Facing versions of yourself tend to be… yeah?”

 

I nod. “Not like I have anything to be worried about.”

 

Midori walks up and ruffles my hair. “You’re always such a dear, Hazuki-chan. Thanks.”

 

There’s a bout of silence as Midori looks in the general direction Kumiko might be. She should be pulling through, but we should give this to her. Trust her to set things alright.

 

We can’t wallow in concern forever. I pipe up, just so that things are less tense. “I played music while I was duking things out, just to pump me up. I listened to jazz!"

 

“Oh?” Midori’s ears perk up like a bunny’s, and she's bouncing on the balls of her feet. “That’s cool! Gershwin or Joplin? Erm maybe you’re closer to home… Akiyoshi, Watanabe, or Yamashita?"

 

The names completely fly over my head. I’m left to express my shock through blinks, before I stammer out a coherent response.

 

“Erm. Tank! by the Seatbelts?”

 

Now Midori draws me a blank look. Dang… why’d we gotta have such different interests?

 

"Cowboy Bebop?” I say, and still no response. “You know… the anime?”

 

"Ohh..!” Midori jumps, her fist hammering into her palm. “Japanese Star Wars with Existential Ennui, right? I think Yoko Kanno wrote that one, then.” She breaks into a goofy smile, as though tasting something sweet. "Very talented lady. Eccentric in the best way possible."

 

Our lighthearted banter carries on for a few more minutes, but still no Kumiko. Even when not directed at us, Reina’s gaze has a presence that’s almost suffocating. 

 

Midori goes silent for a moment, her eyes shut and a palm extended, as though she’s sensing something. And then her uptight posture slackens, and her features soften. “She’s fine,” Midori announces to no one in particular, before checking her watch.

 

“Hey, I gotta bounce first,” she continues. “I’ve got a date I don’t wanna be late for.”

 

“Oh, yeah,” I reply, remembering and my heart sinking a bit. “You have a girlfriend.”

 

Midori elbows me, blushing. “Staawwp. You know we’re just dating, yeah?”

 

“I guess,” I shrug, grinning but frowning at the same time.

 

“Hey, don’t be jealous,” Midori tilts my head towards her. "I know you don’t swing that way, and that’s fine. Heck, I don’t really know which way I swing as well, and I guess… neither does she.”

 

I lean into Midori. “I get it heh. Then, I’ll see you when I see you? I’ll head back to my place first. Have a well earned shower and nap.”

 

“Mmkay,” Midori winks, already hovering. “Catch ya soon!”

 

She leaves like a shooting star, and I’m left in her dust. My hand shields my face from the smoke trail, but as I gaze at my bandages, a kind of relief washes over me.

 

Because I know that I have friends, and that I’m willing to do whatever I can for them. And I can trust that they’ll do the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End scene.
> 
> A few resolutions, but also I know the burning question you all have - WHO IS KAWASHIMA MIDORI DATING? TUNE IN TO FIND OUT ON THE NEXT (probably a few more nexts) CHAPTER OF SOUNDSCAPE.
> 
> As mistyheartbs quotes: “in no universe is midori kawashima a heterosexual”. So there you go.
> 
> Gonna say it now. Katou Hazuki is the only straight character amongst the Hibike girls. Here ya go. Your token straight character (just like John Egbert haha poor boy).


	43. Jazz Improv 3.3.2 (Kumiko)

[♪] [Superego - Yan "Nucleose" Rodriguez](https://homestuck.bandcamp.com/track/superego) [♪]

 

Even in my wildest fever dreams and most idiosyncratic fantasies, I wouldn’t have imagined this to be the way I speak to another version of myself. A kind of smoke-hivemind materialised into a singular form of myself who wants to have a lovely chat after casually attempting to murder me twice. I’m not sure I buy it.

 

_Is this what it’s come down to? I ask myself. I’m hopeless in combat so my abilities manifested you as some kind of a challenge commensurate to my competency?_

 

"Your abilities? Pah!”

 

I’m startled, because I never actually said that out loud. But the distorted reflection slaps her knee, as though laughing at something disgustingly ludicrous. Like a snail proclaiming they’d win a hundred meter sprint against a fighter jet.

 

"You sound awfully arrogant, little missus,” she continues, without allowing me to interrupt. "As if you beget me, beget us. No, Seer of Heart.” She spits out my title like a vulgar curse. "You can merely perceive us, and that’s because we allow you to.”

 

I crumple up my fists at the edge of my shorts. “Excuse me if my thoughts are no longer private. I’m just… wary, and frankly worn out. I didn’t mean to insult you.”

 

“Except you did. Come on, don’t wimp out. Suck in that gut of yours and maybe one day you’ll no longer be so flabby. We were going at each other’s necks and you tell me you don’t have any malice at all?”

 

She’s goading me. I can almost tell. If she can read my thoughts and emotions, saying such things will only rile me up, angering me, and she’ll have the all the excuses to paint me as the bad one. I can’t… I…

 

I let the heat simmer between my ears as she watches me carefully, able to read each word that passes as thought in my brain. 

 

“I believe I am being honest when I say that we fought out of necessity. Now that we seem to be on more diplomatic terms - after you’ve reached out, and I thank you for that - I just don’t want to be uncooperative.” _Not like you didn’t know that_  I mumble inside with a tinge of snark before mentally slapping myself because _of_ course _she heard that._ “I don’t want to offend you.”

 

Again, the barely controlled laughter. If she was a real person she’d be spitting saliva all over. “You think I’d be heartbroken over a petty little twist? Oh, you have to give me more credit than that!"

 

_Why do you have to be so awful?_

 

I almost bite my tongue at that slip. I’m already prone to saying things I shouldn’t say, because I’m already overthinking things, but now even my thoughts can be misconstrued and just-

 

She’s doesn’t seem to react, and instead continues her tirade of bad laughter. Taking her ill-intentioned advice, I take a deep breath, hardening my core, before letting out a large exhale.

 

“Alright. Why don’t we get to the point. It’s still early but it feels like a long day.”

 

“It’s only going to get longer,” she retorts, and there it is, trying to rile me up again. I don’t go for the bait. “Are you wondering why I haven’t just slit your throat yet?”

 

“Erm,” I start. “Let’s just talk about what you wanted to talk about. You called out to me, no?”

 

My double doesn’t face me, but I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand, as though she cast a curious gaze at me.

 

“Think of this as an introduction. So you know I exist,” she scoffs. "Nothing more, nothing less - I’m not your magical guide to the universe, here to impart some moral packaged in a lovely story with a ribbon on top.”

 

“Alright,” I reply. “I um… don’t suppose I need to introduce myself, I guess..? Is there anything you’d like to know, or..?”

 

Her voice is a grating mix between a laugh and a sigh. “I know all about you, Kumiko, because I’m you. If you haven’t noticed. If there’s nothing more you want to say, maybe you should get going-“

 

“Wait!” I plead, my voice almost a shout. “I don’t get it..? You said you wanted to talk heart to heart, but you’re already leaving..?"

 

"There’s nothing to get, if there’s nothing warm flowing through that dead, empty, stone-cold excuse of a heart you have,” she snaps, her tone becoming more hostile. "And we’re doing semantics now? I said that because I wanted us to be honest in our exchange - and I’m _sorry,_ ” the apology hisses with sarcasm, "if you misconstrued it as license to go on a two hour sobfest about your girlfriend problems - not that you would. But I just really wanted to say hi, and a _fuck you_ as well."

 

"I…” I mumble, speechless and indignant, feeling hot tears building up behind my eyes. “That’s not… fair. You can say whatever you want, sure, but I don’t understand why because I haven’t done anything to you..? Is it the arrows? I’m sorry about the arrows but you did want to kill me the last time-“

 

She’s full on laughing now, almost hideous shrieks that don’t seem to travel through the air, when I realise that she isn’t actually talking. Of course not, because she doesn’t have a face to produce sounds. She’s been in my head, all this while.

 

“It’s this! It’s this nonsense that makes me want to strangle you!” she rambles, each phrase getting faster and more animated. "You don’t have to be so nice about it. You don’t have to be so nice about everything! So docile and unassuming and weak. You’re infuriating - this is why I hate you. You’re like some emotionally stunted child unable to express their true feelings, being a goody two shoes when you breathe apathetic poison."

 

"No… I d-don’t,” I stammer. I breathe deeply, and make sure to bring all my thoughts to the forefront because she wants honesty, and I do myself no good keeping anything from her. “H… how is this a problem? Sure, I repress my feelings from time to time... but that’s because it’s not my business? Just b-because I see something and feel that t-things should turn out differently because they benefit me, or maybe I don’t have the full… picture?”

 

My double nods as if she agrees, but she’s emanating enough bitterness to drown a village. “So you think you’re being selfless. I can respect that - if not at the expense of yourself! You think others are important? Laudable! But you’re not important?”

 

I swallow the grains of truth, even if they’re laced with toxic hate. This whole thing is a mess now. “I… I am,” I say. “I am important.”

 

She looks at me like I’ve said the biggest lie, contempt etched in the nebulous features of her face.

 

"I hate you,” she says, not for the first time. There is an emphasis in those three words, and it cuts at me. “You have everything, but you do jack shit about it.”

 

“Ex… excuse me?”

 

"As much as I fucking hate it, _this is for you!_ All of this,” she gestures towards the entire land, and even beyond. “Is. For. You. You didn’t create us, but we were created for you. That’s the whole point of this! This whole shitty game! Giving sentience to a clone made out only of ethereal smoke, forever doomed to be a replicate, second-rate, second-place, an intangible shadow to prop you up and give contrast to the light."

 

I can understand it, I think. Her frustration, her existence and having to grapple with it all. It’s not fair - the same way I feel her treatment of me is unfair, but what can I do? It hurts, it sucks, not having agency, maybe even having to be a clone of someone she feels is pathetic like me. What if her actions are all by design, and she’s meant to be spiteful, lashing out, angry? How does anyone deal with that?

 

I understand, but I don’t agree, and I don’t know.

 

“I’m… I’m sorry,” I offer, my palms open on my lap. I don’t know what else to do.

 

“And in the end, all we have are words,” she sneers.

 

“What… what do you want from me?” I throw my hands up. “I’m already doing my best to be open to you. What else? To be more like you? More of a bitter, unforgiving asshole?”

 

“To do what you want!” she roars. “You think I don’t know what you feel? Your affront to have a new beginning yet you never bother really changing anything yourself? All the times hiding behind walls and doors, eavesdropping and never acting even though you want to, even though you should?” 

 

Each question is a crescendo and a bullet, like crashing waves that smash into you. "And your gross pining which you can’t even allow yourself to care much about? You can’t even be honest with your desires? We both know how horny for little miss perfect you can get but no, you won’t allow yourself to even think of a fantasy where she pins you down - not even of you taking charge - and stuffs her face into yours, where you get fucked silly-"

 

_"Why do you have to be so awful?!”_

 

My words ejaculate with fury and malice, unfettered as though trying to dispute her point. _I will say those words again, and I will say them out loud._

 

But I can feel a hint of surprise coming off from her, and not just from my defiant outburst. It's like this is the first time she’s ever heard those words.

 

Then, the realisation - she can’t hear my thoughts. she’s reading my feelings. It’s an endless cycle feeding into one another, of her into me and me into her, and she seems to grasp this as well. There’s a moment of introspective silence, and all the intensity from earlier just fades and fizzles out. The cycle doesn’t need to break - it just disappears into oblivion.

 

She straightens herself up, her voice now measured, restrained. "I’m you,” she says,  So this is all for me too. This is me, and this is you."

 

I look at her, at an image of me, of smoke and mirrors, hate and hubris. And I shake my head.

 

"I’m not you," I say. _I will never be you._ "I won’t be horrible and hateful like you."

 

"Of course you’d think that,” she looks upwards, before getting up. I haven’t even realised that we were sitting down. Her form starts to fade, but I can tell she’s still here. It’s just losing the clarity of shape, but her presence looms like the omnipresent smoke that surrounds us.

 

"But don’t be blind, Seer. If you continue to wilfully close your eyes, then I might have to pry them open myself.”

 

I bury my face into my arms as I let my feelings settle down, making sure I don’t get overwhelmed, that I’m breathing properly. That my heart stops beating as fast as it had been throughout our entire conversation - which didn’t even actually take place? To any outsider, I was just talking to thin air, and I must’ve looked ridiculous. But I don’t really care about any of that right now. This is going to haunt me for a long time, but for now I just want it to go away-

 

And as though to spite me one final time, she speaks again, before she leaves for good.

 

“Then you’ll truly know what it means to face yourself."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a horribly tough chapter to write, and I'm still not sure if I nailed it. Either way, I hope that it's decent at the very least. Any questions or comments are always appreciated.
> 
> Thank you for reading my story.


	44. Jazz Improv 3.5.1 (Natsuki)

“What’s this now?”

 

[♪] [Sweden (Smooth McGroove Acapella) - C418](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z-jh2ZcS3H8) [♪]

 

Asuka's hands are on her hips, one foot tapping the doorstep with rapid impatience. She's looking at the ground, brow furrowed in deep thought before she glances up, and flashes one of her patented smiles.

 

"My favourite kouhai!" she exclaims, arms opened wide. "I've come for our collaborative project-"

 

She begins walking into my house, ready to embrace me with a hug but I place my index finger on her forehead, pushing her back.

 

"I don't remember replying," I sigh, still sporting a disheveled look in my sleeping wear - a baggy but airy shirt with highlighter purple shorts. 

 

"Hey," she replies, face looking ridiculous as it remains squished against my palm, arms groping at me like a zombie. "Silence is consent, no? Actually wait, that's kinda shitty. Sorry." Her expression drops to become sombre. "It sounded funnier in my head."

 

I eye her, still wary. "Rubbish. You knew how it was gonna turn out."

 

She taps the side of her head. "As I said, only up here. Thoughts and reality don't always match up, and my mouth runs rivers of problematic. All I can do is apologize, and strive to be better next time."

 

"Then do better next time," I say, walking back into my house but not inviting her in. Despite the arid land not having a speck of wind, the door starts to close in.

 

"Natsuki!" Asuka hollers, sticking a foot in the door. "What about our project!"

 

"You mean experiment," I groan, falling into my couch. It's too early for these shenanigans.

 

I can see Asuka's shit-eating grin even through the door. "You have much to learn, young one! It's the same idea either way."

 

"Hey," I begin, smiling sweetly, crossing my legs and leaning forward to rest my arms into them. "Remember the time you stuck me at the bottom of a cavern and left me there to rot in the lightless dark for two whole days just so that you could see if I could ‘glow’ under stress? A fine experiment, yeah?"

 

"And you did!" Asuka shouts through the doorway. "A triumphant moment during the first few days of our joint scientific endeavor into the u known."

 

I facepalm. "Couldn’t you have just used your ability to find out if hey, can Natsuki sparkle like a vampire without resorting to the whole shtick?"

 

"Your abilities defy all common sense," Asuka shrugs. "I can’t operate under such conditions and the best thing to do would be to well… try it out."

 

I roll my eyes. "Please."

 

Asuka holds up her hands. "Hope abilities somehow seem to be even more inscrutable than Void ones. Sorry pal, I don't make the rules. I mean, you could glow! Just not consistently enough to find your way out. It wasn’t as bad as two days of solitary darkness, yeah?"

 

She still remains at the door, expectant, like a puppy waiting to be invited in. As if her rationalisation will change my mind.

 

"Not today, Asuka," I slouch into the cushions. "I'm a bit out of it. Plus I'm meeting with my friends later."

 

"Tomorrow then?"

 

"I'll text you," I holler, keeping my eyes on the door. "Wait for it."

 

Asuka grins, before closing the door behind her.

 

"I will."

 

* * *

 

Will b there 8am

 

I haven't said anything

 

Ure going to let's skip the niceties

 

Fine. 9 though?

 

Dear we're gonna argue and I'm gonna win so 8.30, yeah?

Don’t fight this just save it

 

Sigh

Sure

 

<3

 

Disgusting

 

* * *

 

 

The barren caverns have taken their own life and shape.

 

Many are claustrophobic and dwindling, pathways that sprout into a labyrinthine expanse leading into the Great Chasm. I know who, or what awaits for me at the bottom, but I am not ready yet. Until then, I am content to spend my time on the branches of the world tree that is my land - the roots can wait for another time.

 

Asuka’s wearing a lab coat and goggles, her hair tied into a neat bun with frazzles sticking out. There’s just the cackle, and the mad scientist look would be complete.

 

Suntory accompanies me, as usual. Their club is unimposing, even with their large stature. The adorable hunk of sentient rock has been a kind of addition to my daily life.

 

“Control,” Asuka snaps, and I’m left to shrug at her supposed rhetorical question. I’m not quite sure what kind of response she’s trying to elicit and I’ve long since given up on trying. 

 

When she looks at me, I exaggerate my movements, my hand circling forward even though I know she knows that I’ve gotten her point and require elaboration.

 

“It is the essence of most experiments,” she continues, hands behind her back. “You have your hypothesis, and you tweak parameters. The control setup is the baseline you’re matching up your changes to, looking for correlation and possibly causation.”

 

She yaps on like it’s the first science class of junior high. I yawn, already reclining into the rocks behind me and feeling more comfortable.

 

“But in this case, it’s also the main problem we’ve had with you,” Asuka paces. "Unlike some others struggling with the forms and shapes their abilities take, and how to manifest them, we’ve had ample evidence that you exude ‘Hope’ in spades. You’re not lacking the substance, which of course is what is expected of an Heiress.”

 

Pointing an accusing finger, chin lifted high for effect, she ends her monologue by directing blame at me. “You have had close to no control of your abilities, thus making you an unreliable wildcard from the very beginning. The very nature of your aspect eludes me, and I can only shudder at what you’d be like as a Bard.”

 

“Get on with it, professor,” I reply. “What demented machinations do you have for me this time?”

 

“Control,” she repeats, with a ‘tsk' sound this time. “And I’ve got your friend to help.”

 

With a snap of her fingers, Suntory straightens up. And for the first time since we met, there’s a kind of menacing danger about them.

 

“I don’t like where this is going,” I start, phrasing my tone carefully. “Asuka, I’ve told you that if I’m not cool with this-“

 

“Baby steps,” Asuka talks without sympathy. “In time you will not be their puppeteer - that’s too crude, but their agent. You herald change, Heiress, and it is hope you will inspire in your familiars who will weather the storm beside you. But first, you just need to stop their attack.”

 

Suntory’s rocks almost seem to expand, like a kind of magnetism holding each part together but only slightly, limbs detached and ajar to create the illusion of being even larger. I don’t know what Asuka’s told them, but I don’t-

 

“Sorry,” Suntory shrugs, and it’s the last moment of cinnamon-roll I get from them.

 

You know why they’re called oni? Because they can be demons.

 

[♪] [Starting the project (Big Band Ver.) - 松田彬人](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ukiCfWjuucQ) [♪]

 

The first smash breaks into the ground, shattering clay like glass. The impact ripples out like a spider’s web, and I’m trapped from shock. I see the second swipe coming straight for me.

 

Somehow, my brain still feels like I’m being played. I don’t believe what’s going on. I’m inside a sitcom with a studio audience, funky background music and a laugh track, and any moment now I’ll wake up and figure out this is a dream.

 

My body remembers that it prefers being alive, and I dive out of the way so that Suntory can fracture the earth once more.

 

“Alright, alright,” I mumble to myself, almost fumbling to draw my weapon. “If this is how it’s gonna be, then.”

 

My club pales in comparison. Months of being a batter means that I have a foundation of technique and form, and Suntory did give me some lessons in how it can be used for war instead of sport. Metal never felt so flimsy in my hands before.

 

Suntory charges, crunching the ground with steps that emphasise their weight. This time the swings aren’t clumsy, and despite their large stature I’m dealt with two close shaves in quick succession. Behind the limestone mask I can see an emerald eyeing me closely.

 

But I’m quicker on my feet. My bat clangs against rock, proving futile. The material buzzes, the impact going up into my elbow and I feel my body vibrating and ringing.

 

The demon’s club slams down again, and I roll out of range, just barely. 

 

"The keys to the kingdom are just in front of you!” Asuka shouts from a corner, her own idea of cheerleading. "The title and deed have been signed! You just have to reach out and grab it!”

 

I don’t have time to roll my eyes. Suntory leaps up, and while this makes their attack all the more potent, gravity is kind enough to allow me ample time to react.

 

Being the foolish girl I am, I waste the goodwill on thinking of a silly idea. I don’t even believe I can pull this off, but I do it anyway.

 

When Suntory descends, I don’t just step out of the way. Madness is repetition expecting a different result - quote by Bobby Oppenheimer - and I’m mad enough to trust the principle. So, I leap up, drawing back my batting arm which grazes against the side of Suntory’s weapon.

 

"Inherit what is rightfully yours, Natsuki!” Asuka screams, not helping. "It is already yours!”

 

My bat doesn’t shatter - it’s been alchemized with sturdy enough components. I feel like I’ve popped my shoulder socket, but I have to follow through. I grit my teeth as I bring the club to smash into the side of Suntory’s head.

 

Big mistake. My arms tingle, my brain like jelly wobbling on a perilous plate. It’s almost like a concussion as I fall to the ground, feeling like I’ve hit my funny bone a million times over.

 

Suntory doesn’t loosen up, the harsh reflection of their gem glimmering in the dim cavern light. They raise their club.

 

I look straight at them, even as I feebly raise my weapon in a limp response.

 

There’s a spark, somewhere.

 

When our weapons connect, that’s what they do. There’s a flash of white, as I hold myself steady. There’s a certain effortless intensity that flows through me, and then it doesn’t. Suntory senses this, and with an effortless backhand swats my weapon away. They move in with a third attack - third time’s always the charm.

 

Asuka’s words ring in my ear.

 

I let the flash consume me. Let the white flow, let it enter. I have never resisted, but somehow there is a kind of clarity in inviting it in, letting it ease its way into my hands.

 

_It’s already mine, after all._

 

All I remember is a skyless cloud beyond the horizon, heaven inverted to earth.

 

My outstretched hand with the blessings of faith, holding the head of Suntory’s club in my hands.

 

And Asuka, a knowing smile on her face as her lips part with the river of divine flames as she walks towards me.

 

“We have work to do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to check in on the others.


	45. Jazz Improv 3.5.2 (Natsuki)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: The link to the song goes to the entire disc 3 for Hibike's 2nd Season OST, and only the first song's applicable, which cuts off at 1:26. Thanks!

[♪] [Second project - 松田彬人](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1znmpgFAyBo) [♪]

 

"One 3."

 

"One 2."

 

"Two 2s."

 

I narrow my eyes. Theoretically, Asuka could have possession of the cards she says she has, but is she cheating or not?

 

"One 3," I say, sliding the 6 of Hearts underneath. I want to keep momentum rolling.

 

Ruinaulta plays into my hand. “One 3,” they reply.

 

Asuka lets out a smug grin, before placing her cards face down into the pile.

 

“Two 2s.”

 

“Oh come on!” I shout. “You were cheating the first time.”

 

“Was I?” Asuka hums. “Maybe that’s what I want you to think so that you won’t open my cards. Maybe I actually didn’t bluff the first time, but I am now and since you think I’m not bluffing now, I can get away with it?"

 

I tap the inside of my elbow furiously. “And now you’ve said that, drawing my attention to your supposed ploy… I can’t outmanoeuvre you, senpai.”

 

“The point isn’t to play mind games,” Asuka grins. “I’ve told you that I’ll win every time, unless you do something about it~”

 

I honestly don’t know what she wants me to do anymore. I’m supposed to break the game in my favour, but I haven’t got the slightest clue. It’s the tenth round today, and Asuka’s won the first nine times.

 

“Ruinaulta,” I sigh. “Take the fall. I’ll make it up to you if she’s not cheating.”

 

My eyes fixate on the unopened cards, willing them to change to anything but a set of two 2s. According to Asuka’s theory lessons, being the Heir of Hope means that I am a ‘passive’ hero operating under being able to ‘change’ my aspect, hope signifying ‘belief’, ‘miracles’, ‘possibility’. It’s explained whatever has happened up till now, and I just need to make the impossible possible, no big deal.

 

Despite looking uncertain, Ruinaulta helps me out anyway - but they can’t flip the cards with their pudgy fingers. I place my hand on the cards, exuding as much confidence as I can. If I ‘believe’ hard enough, maybe-

 

I catch Asuka’s grin from the corner of my eye. Doubt sets in, and everything comes crashing down.

 

True to form, I have a sinking feeling in my gut when I flip open the cards. Two 2s.

 

“Shit,” I spit, throwing the rest of my cards down. Asuka bellows with laughter as Ruinaulta groans, collecting the deck into their hand.

 

“One Ace,” Asuka says, starting off the next bout.

 

“Three 2s,” Ruinaulta groans.

 

“Bluff,” Asuka says without a break, and I make a pained noise. What’s the point in trying, really. She knows each and every time, and whether or not she calls us out is entirely up to her discretion.

 

Ruinaulta brings their cards with Asuka’s ace back to the deck, and I can already the endgame in sight. Asuka has five cards left, I have nine, and Ruinaulta has a wealth of over twenty.

 

“One Ace,” Asuka places down her card again.

 

“One King,” Ruinaulta follows up.

 

“One Queen.”

 

“One Jack.”

 

“One 10.”

 

“One Jack.”

 

Asuka pauses for a moment, only three cards left.

 

“One Queen.”

 

“I’m calling it,” I announce, slamming my hand onto the table before Ruinaulta can continue. 

 

“Are you sure?” Asuka raises her eyebrows. “I’m telling you straight up, this is a mistake. You’re giving me a free card and I’m one third way closer to my tenth win.”

 

My fingers skirt the edge of the card. “I still don’t know what we’re doing with this.”

 

“Tell you what,” Asuka leans forward. “If you can guess the suit of the Queen card, I’ll take the stack. A twenty-five percent chance is more favourable than a zero, no?”

 

“What if it isn’t a Queen card and you’re just shitting me?”

 

“Then I’ll take the deck anyway,” Asuka’s cheeks lift behind the hands hiding her smile. The azure light in her eyes are dancing as she watches me. “Predictions aren’t your thing, but let’s do this, yeah?”

 

My fingers drum the surface nervously. I either have a zero, twenty-five or hundred percent chance and… no, this isn’t how I do things. What do I know of odds or math, however I might try to keep up with the books. I’ve always run with blood and intuition and gut, but where has that gotten me of late? I deal with miracles like a priest with broken promises from above, an empty prayer on a one way street with no return address. And all I can see is the colour white; roses and snow and crinkling paper.

 

“Don’t have all day,” Asuka whistles, and my tapping becomes more erratic. “This is the fourth day since we’ve started and our third session, and I enjoy your company, but we need to move on."

 

"When I’m stressed my mind goes blank,” I say, each syllable a staccato. "I can’t think under pressure."

 

"Maybe you don’t need to think,” Asuka purrs. “Just draw a card. Any card.”

 

The four suits pop up on a deck of white, each card thinner than a hair, as glossy as pearls. I just have to pick a suit, any suit. In the absence of information, all I can do is to pick one, like flowers from a garden.

 

_Don’t think_ , comes Asuka’s words.

 

I breathe in, and the air is frosty on my tongue. I taste wisps of fresh nothingness.

 

My eyes open, and I haven’t even been aware that they were closed. I don’t remember the darkness that came before.

 

“Queen of Spades,” I say, and although the words come easy, they feel heavy, like gravity pulling it to the earth.

 

Asuka’s face is unreadable, the same during poker.

 

There’s no white capering at my fingertips as I turn over the card.

 

I see a Queen of Spades.

 

“Ho!” Ruinaulta slaps the table. “Lucky there, ain’t it?”

 

“Maybe,” Asuka grins. “But luck isn’t what we’re looking for, no?”

 

I give her a wary glance. “I guess not.”

 

“The Heiress’ turn now, right?”

 

“It is,” I reply, as Asuka shuffles the pile into her hand.

 

“One King,” I say, placing down my King of Spades.

 

“One Queen,” Asuka follows.

 

“One Jack.”

 

“One Queen.”

 

“One Queen.”

 

Ruinaulta’s sapphire eye swings to me, and then back to Asuka, before placing down a card with a tentative hand.

 

“One King.”

 

Asuka doesn’t flinch, her eyes on me. “One Queen.”

 

“Now-“ Ruinaulta starts.

 

“Two Queens,” I reply, giving no time for dispute.

 

“No!” Ruinaulta slams their fist into the ground. “At least one of you have to be pulling something, yes? Probably both?”

 

Their hand reaches for the cards, even though they know it is futile to pick them up.

 

I beat them to the chase, my hand covering the stack.

 

“Please,” I ask. “Let me.”

 

Ruinaulta takes a moment before bringing back their arm to their side.

 

“Let’s see,” Asuka says. “The moment of truth.”

 

“We make our own truth,” I reply, and I find my words empty and bleak.

 

No one seems to hear them.

 

My truth spills out of me, the cavern lighting up like a fireworks display. But these stars only twinkle for me. I see the white swimming in my eyes, the white is inside me, filling me where I am lost and blank. The white is the blank, the canvas of infinite possibility I melt my brush strokes on. My hope and my legacy, my miracle manifest.

 

_I am the Heir of Hope._

 

The realisation is twofold. My identity clicks like a key unlocking a door, the keyhole a snug fit. The second is when my will is realised, and when I turn over the first two cards, everyone sees a Queen of Spades and a Queen of Diamonds.

 

And when I turn over the rest of the stack, there are nothing but queens upon queens, suited up in every permutation of black and red. The ink is as clear as day without a smudge, fresh on the white as Ruinaulta blinks back their words.

 

“Here I thought that maybe I could settle with you baffling me,” Asuka says, leaning back into her seat. "You’ve outdone yourself, Natsuki."

 

Not luck. Impossibility. That’s my domain. That’s what I do.

 

I win with the next hand. All three remaining cards are Queens of Hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Natsuki gets closer to mastering her powers through a game of... cards?
> 
> A rather short, unconventional chapter that might've been combined with the previous one but then it'd be too long. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thank you for reading my story.
> 
> p.s the game they played is one i know as bluff/cheat, which is basically this one: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cheat_(game)  
> the variant is such that one is permitted to play the same rank, or one rank up or down


	46. Jazz Improv 3.6.1 (Haruka)

“Don’t drag your feet, Kaori!”

 

The White Queen’s words jolt us like a whip lashing out. Kaori’s forehead is drenched, the valley between her eyes creased in concentration, but she’s keeping up. On the other hand I’m struggling, legs like lead, and it’s only warmups we’re doing.

 

The courtyard on the fourth floor of the castle pavilion has become our tiny retreat on Prospit, where the monarch tutors us. I finish my final lap of the makeshift obstacle course a full thirty seconds after Kaori. I had to cheat a little to vault over the crumbling low wall, floating slightly.

 

“Let’s begin, shall we?” the White Queen asks, stripping off her cloak to reveal minimalist, loose-fitting beige robes that cut off mid-thigh. 

 

Kaori’s hands are on her knees, and she straightens up. I follow suit.

 

The White Queen gestures with her palm for us to come forth.

 

[♪] [Megalovania Remix - Kamex](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CA7NMk1ofn0) [♪]

 

We’ve never actually sparred before, although expectations were made that today would be the day. I’m not even sure we can hold our ground against the queen, much less emerge victorious.

 

That’s right, we need to hold.

 

“保つ,” I chant, a spell to fortify and sustain. A chartreuse glow emanates from Kaori, and I can tell how the muscles are locked into bone, her heart an iron castle with war drums on the parapets.

 

Asuka’s theories on war talk about how a swift and decisive victory is always preferable to a battle of attrition. We have to strike fast, and strike hard, never mind that our opponent is on a fundamentally different level than we are.

 

Kaori sprints forward, hand slapping a pillar with one of her paper charms.

 

“軽快,” I exclaim, my index finger drawing the sigils in the air. This will make her feet limber, her body nimble. I repeat the words once more, with the tail end of the pattern reversed inwards, towards me. The weight of fatigue seems to lift off my shoulders, and I begin running into position.

 

We’re doing this.

 

Kaori jumps, execution careful to compensate for her new found strength and speed. She kicks into the White Queen’s left arm, and the queen literally shrugs off her attack with a swipe. As Kaori lands, she slams another charm onto the ground, as the White Queen leaps backwards.

 

“You’re too transparent!”

 

Cracks shoot out from where Kaori stuck her paper charm, a line splitting the ground forming for about ten meters. I stick my hand out, fingers pointing like a gun.

 

"線,” I whisper, as the green bolt of energy hurtles towards the White Queen.

 

Kaori’s already moving forward, even when my follow up’s not strong.

 

My attack delays the White Queen for a fraction of a second. Kaori sticks another charm at the end of the cracked line, before reaching out with her palm to strike her opponent. The White Queen summons a gust of wind with the snap of her fingers, and Kaori is thrown back, but as she gets up she is undeterred.

 

“That went fine,” she tells me, ready for the second phase. I nod back - the conditions for victory are clear. We just have to take the crown off the queen’s head. But even that undertaking is a gargantuan task.

 

Kaori takes out more charms as she arranges them beneath her sleeves. I have no more than five usable spells - many of them not even mastered, but she plucks her charms out of thin air like coins from behind a kid’s ear. These words feel like the vocabulary of magic to me but she’s already codified an entire language, even if it’s just the barebones.

 

But she has the cornerstones she’s so carefully laid to work with, and within those restraints she begins to craft a wealth of possibilities.

 

The White Queen saunters forward, eyeing us as we catch our breath. There are now flames quivering in her palm, and she looks towards the charm at her feet, the one at the end of the line.

 

Kaori gives me a high five and a pat on the shoulder before taking off.

 

With a careless flick like tossing away a cigarette butt, the White Queen ignites Kaori’s paper charm, except there’s a sigil scribbled on it that flares up, as Kaori shouts-

 

The White Queen douses her flames too late, summoning a vacuum to snuff out the oxygen required for burning, but the conditions have been met. Kaori anticipated this, the undoing of her set-up into ash, and turned it over into an opportunity.

 

I dash to my next position, marked by another charm - Kaori literally laid out the groundwork, slipping these into place when we were warming up - and squat, bringing my fingers to the charm.

 

“保つ,” I repeat, just as the charms switch to create a field with the White Queen as the anchor from the new charm at her feet, my spell strengthening it that much more. I’ve had trouble working with non-organic beings, but somehow I pulled it off this time.

 

The White Queen visibly weakens as Kaori goes in deep, fighting at close-quarters. She's methodical with each attack, targeting weak points in the hope of chipping away at the White Queen, each blow leading towards the eventuality of defeat.

 

I provide assistance from the rear, aiming well placed shots to further complicate things for the White Queen. "線,” I keep muttering, attempting to keep the points Kaori told me to fire at in mind. It’s not so much of causing damage, than zoning her out, closing her in. When you limit your opponent, they become that much more predictable. That’s the philosophy Kaori holds to heart.

 

The White Queen shoots me a glance, and then her hand swipes upwards, as though cutting across Kaori's face. I find out a second later that the attack was meant for me, as golden stone breaks off over me, crumbling and tumbling towards me.

 

The charm Kaori placed on my shoulder earlier glows, and just before the impact the rocks are transported away, on top of the White Queen. A burst of light envelops her as she deflects all attacks, grinning. Foiled again.

 

Kaori continues to apply pressure, placing and setting off charms to find a chink in the White Queen’s seemingly impenetrable armour. Any opening that we can use at all-

 

I consider strengthening the field again, but have a gut feeling that we won’t get much out of it. The White Queen seems to be able to adjust her strength to match ours, and I decide to create distance, into the corner of the courtyard to have a wider field of vision, survey the big picture.

 

The White Queen gives Kaori a good kick in the stomach, halting any relentless momentum she might’ve been gaining. Another well placed attack leaves a gash on Kaori’s shoulder, as she struggles to keep up.

 

“縫目,” I pray, my most basic, most practiced spell coming to the forefront. I imagine my grandmother with her needle and thread, the way she mends ripped clothes and I take that abstraction into skin and flesh. I will Kaori’s wounds to seal up, I create vitality to empower her and restore her admirable, enviable resilience. She will overcome, because that’s what I’m here to help her do. Even against one of the strongest beings within the Incipisphere.

 

I don’t need to cast 保つ a third time - plus my reserves are draining fast. I’m still maintaining my connections to each spell, keeping their effects afloat as Kaori capitalises on the energy I’ve given her. The White Queen remains impassive, fending off each attack without much concern, and then she disappears-

 

And heads straight for me.

 

I yelp, backing myself even further into the corner. That was too sudden-

 

Only with the effects of 軽快 am I able to dodge the first attack. A straight jab that lodges itself into the wall behind me. I wriggle my way out to give myself more space-

 

“Already running, Haruka?” the White Queen taunts. “You shouldn’t leave all the legwork to poor Kaori-“

 

She strikes again, a palm meant to knock me over-

 

Like I’ve rehearsed countless times, I let her arm pass my head as my left hand grabs hold of her forearm, my right reaching out to restrain her other.

 

“I’m here,” I grin, as the charm on my palm becomes hotter, the sigil glowing.

 

And then I’m not, as I switch with Kaori, who now holds the White Queen.

 

“Get her!” I shout, raising my arm for the follow-up.

 

An explosion wracks the courtyard, where the both of them once stood in the corner; the White Queen leaping backwards out of the smoke, Kaori already switched out to one of her other charms.

 

“線!” I scream, the time for subtlety past. I envision a gigantic bumblebee in my head, whizzing forth with a sharp, four-inch stinger as the energy bolt forces the White Queen to change direction.

 

The next two seconds happen really quickly, and I know what happens only because I was told beforehand.

 

Much of Kaori’s set-up is frightening because of how hard it is to predict her. The White Queen can sense patterns in charm placements, but with Kaori’s latent ability to swap around her charms and various elements along with said charms, the number of conceivable combinations present too many possibilities. That was how we trapped the White Queen within our field in the first place.

 

Kaori swaps the places of two charms as she dashes forward. The one she had placed on the pillar just before the start of this fight, was a delayed-explosion charm, meant to set off a larger bang in exchange for accumulated time. All things return to ash, in the end.

 

The second charm is a simple one that the White Queen didn’t bother with - one of the many Kaori’s scattered around the courtyard during our warmup. A charm meant to carry out basic functions like exchanging elements coming into contact with it. But now, the position of the harmless charm has been replaced, and a deafening explosion wards off the White Queen, as she heads towards the only remaining safe zone.

 

_The pillar._

 

Kaori warps right to the pillar, both feet standing on it as if it were ground before gravity does its work. But Kaori leaps off, and the White Queen falls right into her, and Kaori nicks the crown.

 

_Just as she planned._

 

I’m only left in awe at seeing said plan become reality, Kaori holding the headpiece in the air, triumphant.

 

Leaning against the pillar, breathing hard, the White Queen smiles back at us.

 

* * *

 

“How were you so sure that I would draw my attention to Haruka?”

 

“It’s convention,” Kaori replies. “Medics and support staff are always targeted first in battle, right? Plus, we deliberately set Haruka up to be annoying in the hopes that you would deal with her. It wouldn’t have worked as well if she came to you.”

 

The White Queen laughs as she sips on her cup of tea, lean arms shaking as it glistens under the sun. We’re cooling down with some drinks and basking in the glow of our victory. “There are rules yes, but they don’t always apply in every situation. What you’re talking about is during an actual war, not a little sparring match. The logic behind said ‘rule’ being that if your forces have support and the opposing side is cut off from theirs, then it is only a matter of time before they fall.”

 

Kaori’s eyes widen, and nods in acknowledgement. “On the other hand, if I were to be knocked out first, Haruka would most likely be unable to fend for herself. I see what you mean.”

 

“No offence to you, my dear,” the White Queen places her hand on my lap. “The Sylph class is one of the most passive after all.”

 

I shrug. “Well, we pulled it off, and that’s all that matters,” I say. The White Queen’s advice sticks with me, and I make a mental note to remind Kaori not to follow Asuka’s texts by the book, instead thinking of concepts and applications.

 

“Much of what I did today was to test you both,” the White Queen says. “And while you have exceeded all expectations I hope you do not take my actions as actual combat experience. Down on The Battlefield, things will be very different.”

 

She gazes upon the streets of Prospit bustling below us. “That being said, you are both well prepared. Especially you, Kaori. The countermeasures and planning was so many steps ahead that even I failed to see through it.”

 

I frown a little even as I hold my grin. I have a feeling that she went easy on us, given how fragile Kaori’s plan was in retrospect. Even though she had placed ample charms to necessitate swapping them about to bring about ample permutations, the sequence of events had to be strictly followed and predicted in order for us to be successful. Was the White Queen playing along, or..?

 

“Honestly I didn’t expect it to work as well as it did,” Kaori says, echoing my sentiments. “But I guess it paid off.”

 

“Doom heroes tend to be pessimistic and methodical,” the White Queen replies. “That makes them that much more ready to ascend, and that’s what we’ve been working towards, no? Making the both of you fit enough to handle your powers once you become God Tiers.”

 

The mentioning of ascension makes my stomach drop. The reminder of what’s required… even if it remains the inevitable destination at the end of this road.

 

Kaori seems to sense my anxiety, her fingers wrapped around mine as she squeezes hard. “We’ll need some time,” she says. “It’s not an easy decision.”

 

The White Queen waves Kaori off. “Definitely. I’d say you’ll be ready in a week but I’m not the one who decides. Part of the ritual is facing your own mortality after all. Being willing to take your life is a large part of it.”

 

And then the shoe drops. When she first mentioned it to me, the White Queen painted a pretty picture of what God Tiers were like. Literal gods! Conditional immortality! Nigh unlimited control over one’s aspect in the form of one’s class! And like all coming of age stories I assumed that this would be achieved through hard work, gruelling trials, perhaps a final test to see if we are worthy.

 

But all that is required, is for us to die. We have to die on our Quest Beds - structures present on every planet - which necessitates the taking of one’s own life or engaging in activities in which you might die. Defeat is almost preferable. 

 

“Death is a part of rebirth, after all,” the White Queen exhales, before taking another sip of tea.

 

I want to be brave for a lot of things, but I don’t know if I can be brave enough for that. Especially after what happened to Aoi on Derse.

 

My fingers press against Kaori’s, knuckles white as I never want to let go of this life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was another tough chapter to write (don’t all of them seem tough these days?) and coming up with a concrete manifestation of Kaori’s abilities was incredibly satisfying. I hope the execution was fine and as always, comments are appreciated.
> 
> Thank you for reading my story.


	47. Jazz Improv 3.7.1 (Nozomi)

“She’s going to be late again,” I announce, shoving my phone into my pocket. "We’ll start without her.”

 

“Hah?! Tch. Typical of her.”

 

Mizore is wordless as she fiddles with her oboe, unwilling to look me in the eye. She was late too - has been late the past few days, shambling into practice. But Natsuki hardly turns up, and Yuuko and I just don't... comment.

 

“Can’t be helped,” Yuuko continues, fuming. “If she’s going to be this irresponsible-“

 

“Asuka senpai’s holding her up,” I shrug. “And I know that none of us really like that, but they do work well together. Natsuki’s been improving leaps and bounds.”

 

Yuuko rolls her eyes, before pulling the ribbon out of her hair. “Let’s just do this, kay?”

 

I don’t argue as I materialise a simple blade out of hard light, still unused as to how it doesn’t weigh anything at all. When I practice swordsmanship on my own, I use real weapons.

 

Mizore whistles into her oboe, the reed firmly between her lips. She’s not going to talk.

 

The kitsune begin swarming us, forming a circle to close us in. I square my shoulders as I raise my sword, ensuring I have the correct posture. The rest follow suit.

 

We begin.

* * *

 

[♪] [Mercutio - Immediate Music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nefeFdmeobI) [♪]

 

“Left!” I shout.

 

Yuuko’s body moves on intuition, and she’s placed perfectly in the path of the target. Her ribbon unfurls like a whip, the tail end flickering with flames that hit the bullseye dead on.

 

Two more target dummies materialise on her right, and she wraps her ribbon on the one closer to her, dragging it in.

 

I follow up, dashing forward and stabbing it with my sword, leaving a gash that penetrates through the thing. I don’t waste time drawing out my weapon - I simply materialise another one, while the previous one fades.

 

Mizore exhales a haunting refrain - E, A#, B, G# - as bubbles of concentrated vacuum float out of the oboe’s bell, orbiting her the way moons do so for planets. Two spheres whizz to the forefront as she continues giving her musical commands, eating away at and disintegrating the body of the remaining target.

 

The kitsune split and reform, like water filling up their respective vessels. Five of them pop up like candles amidst the darkness, as they merge to form a large bear. Our cue for a joint attack.

 

I’m vaguely aware of the other two kitsune prowling behind us, the hairs adjacent to the back of my ears tingling in discomfort. Information, information, information.

 

“I’ll deal with the ones behind us!” I shout. "Mizore you take the left flank, Yuuko on the right!”

 

As I turn, I see the path that needs to be taken, my eyes drawn towards the necessary steps. I can see that if I take care of them too quickly, more will form. If I take too long, the girls won’t have my assistance. There’s a delicate balance I need to strike.

 

But what if I don’t take them out at all? I just need to make sure they don’t interfere.

 

Swords can be too complex at times. I materialise two rods, two cylindrical beams half my height, no thicker than a spear. They hover at my side, and I turn them such that they face forwards, angling towards the two kitsune.

 

And then I clap my hands together, before the rods disperse, forming a blinding smokescreen of light almost akin to a flash bang - only amplified by the darkness. The kitsune howl and shriek, and while stunned, I use the same light and shift it into a thin wall, and push back against them like sweeping up dust. They won’t bother us for a bit.

 

When I turn around, I’m met with a disheartening sight.

 

Yuuko’s easily agitated, but she’s always been patient with Mizore - who isn’t patient with Mizore? - who draws out her kind side in a minute more so than most people do in a lifetime. Now, Yuuko’s a mess, her ribbons tangled up with each other, and Mizore’s looking battered, breathing hard as the bear stares them down.

 

I don’t need to guess what happened. I know that the combination attacked was botched. Yuuko’s flames got snuffed out by Mizore’s vacuum. In the absence of oxygen, flames can’t survive, and both elements don’t mix well even though both provide very potent albeit different forms of destruction.

 

Yuuko shouts out, and with a snap of her fingers, candle flames encircle the perimeter of the bear, who’s now just standing there looking amused. The flames stream upwards, forming a kind of cage, while Mizore moves upwards, the vacuum orbs sucking her to where she needs to be. But she has trouble maintaining them, and even as she sends them after the bear, they spiral out of control, eating into Yuuko’s cage.

 

The bear swipes at its non existent restraints, and shrugs. Both girls look worn out.

 

I supplement the cage with my own hard light, but Mizore shakes her head as the orbs suck my light into them as well, before she dispels them completely. And then she falls to the ground, her energy spent.

 

“Mizore-!”

 

Yuuko acts before I finish speaking, one of her ribbons catching Mizore before she’s gained any significant momentum. They ease her as she comes into a running landing, and then she rolls over on the ground as she trips before picking herself up.

 

Well, shit.

 

"We should take a break,” I declare, dropping to the ground and sitting. Yuuko flicks her fingers, and claps twice - the signal for the kitsune to dissipate and disperse, but a few still stay behind to taunt us. Nothing more than puerile distractions that I’ve learned to ignore.

 

[♪] [Game Lost - Sean William Calhoun](https://unofficialmspafans.bandcamp.com/track/game-lost) [♪]

 

“It’s tough without Natsuki,” Yuuko grunts, lying on her back next to me. “She could’ve cleaned that up that last, failed attack. Right, Mizore?”

 

Mizore shrugs, before taking her seat, ankles tightly hooked between one another. She clutches her head like she's having a migraine of sorts.

 

“I’ll talk to her,” I sigh, leaning into my arms as I stare into the inky blackness. The Land of Candles and Kitsune isn’t exactly hospitable, a kind of filter enveloping the planet, preventing Skaia’s light from penetrating. Mizore’s placed as many light features such that Yuuko’s apartment is a lighthouse on its own, calling out to us lost sailors in the sea of darkness. It helps that Kitsune frequent the house, their ethereal glow giving it a homely warmth.

 

And then there are the whimsical candles. It’s not even wax or wicker - the flames seem to be what the planet breathes, forming roads and paths to its liking, a guide amidst the sunless unknown. Yuuko’s land remains a mystery to us all, and even my Light abilities don’t illuminate much beyond the obvious.

 

“We need to get our act together,” Yuuko nags, even from her position. “There’s been all this talk about ascension across all the cohorts, but none of us with the guts to pull the trigger. All of us too chicken, all of us still unprepared.”

 

“I’ve heard from Kumiko that Reina and Midori are doing well,” I supply. “Plus this is just our really roundabout way of dealing with the… death problem. I don’t buy the White Queen’s bullshit about being strong enough. If dying on the Quest Bed is the only requirement, it makes no difference if we ascend on day one or day one hundred."

 

“You know I don’t usually agree with the patronising monarch, but she has a point,” Yuuko replies. “It’s all about experience, doing these. I don’t think it’s cheap getting our powers upgraded to a godly level, but even then we still need to know how to use them. Applying our abilities through the basics and knowing how they work with limitations will make us less dependent on them in a crisis. This helps."

 

I continue gazing upon the starless night. “I guess. Plus there’s the whole element of challenge too. If we manage to pull this off without ascending, it’d be pretty cool, huh?”

 

“Yeah,” Yuuko laughs. “If we don’t all die doing it.”

 

“That’s the point of all this, no?” I look over my shoulder towards Yuuko. “Strong enough that we can recover our casualties if need be, so that some of us have the excuse to ascend.”

 

Mizore coughs, and then clears her throat. The most sound she’s made all day.

 

“Enough of the morbid talk,” Yuuko states. “Let’s just focus on how we’re moving forward. Mizore and I aren’t exactly synergistic, but with the right timing our abilities-“

 

“Sorry,” Mizore cuts in, her voice hushed as she picks herself up. “I’m really tired today. I should get going.”

 

“Of course,” Yuuko replies, getting up. “Do you want me to-?”

 

Mizore shakes her head, Yuuko in transition to her feet. I say something that I can’t hear, but Mizore’s already gone, the pitter-patter of her footsteps the last remnants of an afternoon rain.

 

“Well,” Yuuko says. “That sucked.”

 

“I still don’t get it,” I groan, burying my head in my arms. “I thought that she’d warm up after all these weeks but… do you know anything about it? Has she told you?”

 

“As much as I’d like to help, if she told me anything in confidence I wouldn’t share it with you,” Yuuko crosses her arms. “Whatever’s between you two, I don’t know. But she hasn’t. I tried bringing you up once or twice, and she’d just shut down.”

 

“She’s starting to really worry me,” I sigh. “Did you know she’s cut off all the feed of the first level of her house? She’s always been good with computers and machines - must’ve hacked Sburb or something. She’s allowing me to build upwards, but I can’t check in on her, and she never leaves the first floor. I guess… she really hates me or something, huh?”

 

Yuuko leans into me, and I feel her tiny body exhale. “I don’t think so, Nozomi. She’s always been complicated. But you really should just go talk to her. Sort this out. If she’s not going to open up to you, you have to go to her. And the longer you prolong this the worse it’s gonna get.”

 

“I’ll check on her,” I say, an affirmation to myself. “Tomorrow. I think she’s had enough of me today.”

 

“Well, I know I haven’t.”

 

There’s the familiar sound of exhaust, followed by panicked footsteps as I look to the left. Candles light the way as Natsuki stumbles on scene, panting and bobbing on her tiptoes.

 

“You’re late,” Yuuko huffs, looking away. “Mizore already left.”

 

Natsuki winces, her body almost deflating, hands anxiously patting the sides of her thighs. But there’s a kind of nervous energy that seems pent up in her, one that goes beyond guilt. If anything, there are some positive vibes I’m getting from her that might get quashed if nothing’s done.

 

“It’s alright,” I say, getting up and putting an arm around her as I invite her to sit with us. “But I hope this doesn’t become common? You can’t be working whole days with just Asuka, you know.”

 

Her eyes brighten, which is saying a lot considering Natsuki normally has a tired, apathetic look. Her fists are all balled up, and they’re shivering, and even Yuuko notices that something’s up.

 

“Yo,” Yuuko prods Natsuki’s shoulder with her finger. “Wanna say what’s up?”

 

Natsuki breaks into a smile, and it’s not her usual sardonic grin. This one is earnest, joyful, and proud.

 

“I’ll be with you guys from now on,” she laughs, and I can see white flitting about her purple iris, and the space radiates with more brilliance, which says a lot considering that I’m a Hero of Light and Yuuko’s pyrokinetic to a degree.

 

She grabs my hand, and then Yuuko’s, and I can feel belief surging through them. Natsuki’s confident, and that confidence seems almost contagious, and there’s a swelling in my chest, like I’ve downed caffeine and alcohol without any of the negative side effects.

 

“I did it this time. I really did.”

 

And none of us doubt her one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Checking in with the other second years.  
> I'm really excited for the next few chapters ahead - some of my favourites I've written for this series. I hope you've enjoyed this one and the rest to come. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading my story.
> 
> NOTE: This was one of the few chapters where I was struggling to find music. I hope it's not too shoddy - there's more to these updates than churning out 1-2k a day.


	48. Jazz Improv 3.4.2 (Reina)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second piece, placed within <♪>, should be listened to in its entirety before reading the remainder of the chapter. Allow the music to paint the story for you, without words.
> 
> All subsequent chapters with <♪> should be listened to as such.

[♪] [特等席 - 横山克](https://youtu.be/oL3t27ae5r8?t=109) [♪]

 

“Good work today. Nice victory.”

 

I let my hair fall to my shoulders, undoing the ponytail that had kept my hair together. The tension tugging against my scalp’s gone, and it’s a small relief.

 

“Well, I don’t think it can be counted as a win?” Kumiko chuckles nervously, twirling her curls around a finger. She looks disconcerted, as though something’s bothering her but I don’t pry. It’s most likely something she’s put to the back of her mind anyway. She shuffles to give space for me to sit next to her on her couch.

 

"Does it matter?” I cocks her head. “If the job’s done, I don’t see how it does.”

 

“Riiiight…” she replies, and Kumiko gives me one of those intense stares that I just can’t decipher, her golden eyes bright and earthy. She kicks her legs a little, and stretches. Her groans seem much louder in the silence.

 

Hazuki and Midori have since left. This small chapter’s over, and now it’s just the both of us in the aftermath. The past two weeks have been a buildup to an anticlimax that’s leaving me wanting, not so much a sour aftertaste but a snack when I want a feast.

 

Not that I want to release all my energy and blast a crater into one side of the planet or tackle a denizen - we’re still way too early for that, and I am ambitious, not suicidal. Thinking back to that night in Derse… the adrenaline was great, but the situation overall? Too real. I’m not sure I want to revisit those stakes again.

 

Kumiko seems content in the silence, her usual pensive self. She stares into her blank ceiling, the spokes of the fan providing the only sort of motion to break the stillness but it’s still circular in a way. Action for the sake of action, never really going anywhere.

 

I want to go somewhere.

 

My feet move before I’ve made up my mind, and the sudden motion startles Kumiko. I’m already seeing past these four walls.

 

“Let’s get out.”

 

“Reina..?”

 

“We can finally something that’s not training. It’s still early afternoon.”

 

Kumiko reaches to tuck her fingers around my pinky from behind. "I don’t think there’s much to do here… is there?"

 

"Of course there is!” 

 

In a sweeping motion, I grab both of Kumiko’s hands, hoisting her to her feet. She gives a yelp as her toes stumble such that they avoid stepping on mine, and I pull her close to me to stabilise her. There’s a muffled ‘oof’ upon the soft impact, and she’s taller than me - more so since she’s on her tiptoes - and I become so much more aware that we’re in the perfect position for a dance.

 

But I don’t. At least, not really. I indulge myself by twisting Kumiko’s arm gently, but she’s too slow on the uptake, instead letting herself stand in this awkward, unmoving position. Before I injure her, I twirl myself, and the golden dress fans out just a little, like a flower in spring about to bloom but not quite.

 

“Come, grab your euphonium,” I tell her, one hand still holding on. “We’re heading out.”

 

Kumiko’s almost awestruck, and she looks at me like… I can’t describe it. But I can describe the flush in her cheeks, the way her brows lift and frame her eyes that glimmer with childlike curiosity and wonder. I can feel the way her fingers grip mine tight, before softening and sliding away slowly, falling down to her side.

 

And I feel it in my chest when a grin creeps across her face, and she nods without a word, her other hand moving to run her fingers through her fringe backwards, and then she skips off into her room to get her instrument.

 

I don’t know what I feel for this girl. But it’s something.

 

It’s something good.

 

* * *

Everything seems gentler now, and the second time is easier than the first. No, I’m not cheating by flying, but two weeks have made a difference in each of our physiques. It’s a small difference, but it’s there.

 

And the climb isn’t just easier on our bodies. The first time, there was all this uncertainty and fear amidst the fog that anything could happen. Something dangerous could be lurking around the corner. But now we can walk the land freely with the knowledge that there won’t be anymore negative repercussions.

 

The air’s just better too. The smoke breathes the same way water would for a fish - I don’t need my ability to tell me that. No more discernible difference, and I’m left with a healthy mindset that’s fit for exploration.

 

Not that we’re exploring today.

 

But being acutely aware of the world around me has its perks. For one, I can see Kumiko without turning around. I can sense the way she makes her way through the smoke and air, the way the euphonium case bounces on her back, how much heavier each step of hers is as her shoes dip into gravel. I offer to change instruments with her but she glances a smile through a fringe sticky with sweat, small droplets pooling on her forehead.

 

Just so slightly, I raise the wind around her a bit, hoping that it’d make her cooler. As the breezes passes through her, I can sense even more: the way the back of her shirt’s getting damp, the way some beads seem to trickle uncomfortably down Kumiko’s hamstrings, only to conglomerate in that nasty spot behind her knee. I want to increase the wind speed more, but it’s a delicate situation. I’m not sure I want Kumiko to know what I’m doing, and I don’t have as fine a control over my element as I’d like. Until now I’ve only really used it as a weapon or a tool, a force moulded by my will.

 

Not like this.

 

The route’s easy, and despite the extra weight Kumiko manages it faster than before. And then, we’re on the top of the hill again, the view just like before. The land is still wreathed in smoke, but somehow the light seems to filter through, and the glass scattered about reflects and refracts the light such there’s a certain colour to all the greyness. The conical shaped hill - which we now know has each land’s Quest Beds, a necessary landmark in ascending to the God Tiers - sticks out just as ever, as does the statue looming over it.

 

I find a glass bench, and it’s cool to the touch. Kumiko plops down on it, unslinging her case and letting her back breathe.

 

“I’ll be fine sitting,” she assures me. “I know you like to play standing up.”

 

Straightening out my dress, I nod. My trumpet’s at the ready, and I blow on the mouthpiece just a little, then wiping it with my dress. Kumiko prepares her euphonium as I gaze beyond the cloudy horizon of her land.

 

"What song are we playing?” she asks, warming up her fingers.

 

"The one we played in middle school, third year,” I reply. "At the farewell party."

 

Kumiko’s eyes move to the upper left corner. "That one?"

 

"I like it,” I say, matter of factly.

 

She turns her head a fraction to look at me, before a knowing grin creeps across her face.

 

“Alright.”

 

Normally I’d push away all thoughts of Kumiko to the back of my mind when I need to play. As of late, she’s becoming a distraction. But… I can’t quite do so here. Not like this. Not with this song.

 

And with a synchronised breath, we let our music travel throughout the cavernous expanse from the top of a hill, each note of our little duet in resonance with the glass surrounding us.

 

\---

 

 

<♪> [愛を見つけた場所 - 黄前久美子、高坂麗奈](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3kEkd9VZtsM) <♪>

 

 

\---

 

The last note hangs in the air before fading, and it’s the magical, trance-like afterglow that follows a piece. You immerse yourself in the playing, you forget that you’re still holding your breath. You come up, the worlds of fantasy and reality merging into each other.

 

But normally, you aren’t rudely interrupted with the feeling of the earth falling apart beneath you.

 

“R… Reina..!”

 

Kumiko’s cries are drowned out by the deafening bellow as the ground shifts beneath us, not opening up but vibrating, keeping my feet uneven. On instinct, I hover above the ground, and watch as Kumiko grips the edge of her bench, and I’m ready to haul her up the moment this poses more danger.

 

But it doesn’t.

 

Kumiko’s land seems to react to our music, a cacophonous choir of glass against rock screeching out notes of dissonant praise. And despite the entire land quaking and rumbling, Kumiko’s quest bed still seems as firm and solid, the sight as clear as day, as certain as the sun. It’s as if an anchor in turbulent waters, a focal point you can center your sights upon, and it has captured my attention by sheer being of existing.

 

And then it happens. 

 

The statue changes, a metamorphosis. It doesn’t crack or peel like you think it would, but with ease it just seems to become what it's meant to be, nothing of the struggle of a butterfly emerging from a cocoon. Colour and life flood the brand new shape, like rock sculpting itself into putty into skin, and I see brilliant shades this land has never seen before. A whirlwind of orange, forest green, electric blue, fiery pink.

 

As though intended, the creature executes a perfect choreography of movement, curling up its serpentine body and then straightening up into its full height, rearing a head that looks like a mirror, overlooking the quest bed as it used to before. It glances in our direction, the reflection of the glass casting an ethereal kind of light at us, as though telling us that we can be seen.

 

The denizen waits patiently, but even as it stays still, anyone can tell that it isn’t going to be a passive statue any longer.

 

“That’s for you,” I say, my lips slightly ajar, once the situation seems to settle in. “You should go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that happened.
> 
> And yes, it's finally **that** song's turn. Did you think I'd really let it slip after the previous mountain scene? Also, I find it quite hilarious that the artists of the piece are literally attributed to Kumiko and Reina (黄前久美子、高坂麗奈). Possibly the only times where well... it's literally the characters playing a piece that it also literally being played in-universe.
> 
> Hype as Soundscape reaches its 50-chapter mark! 
> 
> And as always, thank you for reading my story.


	49. Jazz Improv 3.3.3 (Kumiko)

The slope is gentle, but the road is much longer than I thought it’d be. The winding spiral is deceptive in the amount of work I have to put in, and my calves are burning by the time I reach the top.

 

I’m really not ready for this, less so than the encounter this morning, now feeling like a lifetime ago. There are months where nothing happens, and there are days where decades happen. This feels like such a day.

 

But I find the strength within me to soldier on.

 

Reina’s waiting behind me. She’s made about ninety five percent of the climb, and has made it clear that she’ll bail me out if she senses anything going awry. 

 

This is my thing, she’s made it clear. I’ll do this.

 

When I reach the top and I see the denizen, there’s a kind of instinctual knowledge that buds in my brain. Just like how I knew my planet’s name, my denizen’s name comes to me easily.

 

[♪] [Take Me To Church - Simply Three](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-FMa6jWqO8E) [♪]

 

“Venus,” I address her, unsure of what else to do.

 

“Oumae Kumiko,” she responds, her voice deep and soulful, every bit the alien matriarch she is. 

 

Up close, the denizen is even more impressive. Even with a coiled base, Venus stands around thirty meters tall. Her general shape’s that of her symbol - a mirror with a cross around her midsection, but just like all denizens she’s serpentine in nature. She’s made out of braids, with at least six strands of colour intertwining all the way down, the coiling even making up the ‘frame’ that houses her glass face. 

 

When she looks down at me, I can see myself in her.

 

"I’m sure you’re tired of talking,” Venus coos, sounding like seductive suggestion. “Are you ready to skip to the action?”

 

My head starts to nod, but I catch myself in the trance like action, mentally slapping myself and raising my hands to correct my mistake. “I’m sorry. What action are you referring to?”

 

“What else?” she says, almost scoffing. “We denizens are ophidian beasts for heroes to slay, and our carcasses left to plunder. We fight, my Hero of Heart.”

 

At this, I panic, assuming some form of a combative stance, but I fumble. I draw my weapon far too slowly, and the bow slips through my clumsy fingers onto the floor, and I shield myself uselessly, praying for the best-

 

There is silence, and I feel silly as I peek through the gaps in my fingers. There is no fight. Instead, all I get is a sense of amusement and exasperation from her, communicated not through expression but just by feeling. I get the sense that Venus would laugh if she wanted to.

 

"I won’t attack you,” she says. "Some of my kind might, but I seek battle, not carnage nor self preservation. There is nothing in war if it isn’t first waged."

 

"I’m… I’m not a fighter,” I breathe. "How could I fight you?"

 

"You just have to lift your head high, and come forth."

 

I wring my hands as I pace around in a confusion of words. “B-but! How could I possibly face you… at all? I have no useful supernatural abilities unlike some of the others-"

 

"That didn’t stop knights from charging at dragons with only sword, shield and steed,” Venus replies, calm.

 

“-or any physical aptitude! I-I… I’m rubbish with weapons, I don’t have any tactical acumen, I’m not just wallowing in self pity or lack of self confidence - although don’t we all lack confidence sometimes? Mortal humans, I mean - but.” I take a deep breath, the string of words I just disembogued sufficiently choking me up. “I. I tried fighting, and I failed in the most humiliating way possible. Fighting? That’s... not me."

 

There’s a painful silence that stretches on after me tiny rant. I let my emotions pour out again, overflowing in a nonsensical fountain… and? I’m not sure if it has anything to do with the stress of being in the presence of a denizen, or just a build up of all that has happened. The other Kumiko’s words still linger in my mind, and just… I don’t know.

 

Venus doesn’t say anything. But cast in her face I can see the look of disappointment and fear on mine. And somehow, it feels like these sentiments are mirrored in her.

 

"Talk it is, then,” she says, shifting such that more of her body coils up, and she’s much lower to the ground. "Come, sit.”

 

I follow her instructions, crossing my legs as the smoke hangs around us. It shrouds Venus in an air of reverent ambiguity that surrounds all denizens.

 

"You have questions,” she states before I can open my mouth. "Shall I ask them for you?"

 

“Er…” I start, spluttering. “I mean wh… huh?"

 

"What do you know about me?” Venus continues, impassive.

 

“You?” I point, before realising that pointing is rude and then keeping my hands buried between my legs and unable to look at Venus. "I mean well… not much. You’re a denizen - and that entails a couple of things that have been confirmed I guess? And you’re also Venus. Greek… or Roman goddess of love and marriage… right?"

 

“Roman,” she clarifies. "And just love, but among other things."

 

I nod, unable to see where she might be going with this.

 

"Shall we speak of love, then?”

 

If I had been drinking something I’d both choke on it and die and expel everything out with the most forceful spit simultaneously. What a segway that I should’ve seen coming.

 

“L-l-l-love? I mean, aren’t there m-more… important things-“

 

“Are you implying that love isn’t important?” Venus raises by a fraction, but considering her length it is quite a fraction, and that makes her seem all the more dangerous.

 

“Of course not!” I swat my words away from my lips. “But I mean, given the circumstances, isn’t it not very... practical..?”

 

Venus almost ignores me, my points so invalid to her that they don’t even warrant engaging. “You have someone, don’t you? Many people do.”

 

“Not everyone,” I mumble, defiant and sulking.

 

“Not everyone,” she echoes. “But you are not one of them.”

 

I raise a finger in protest, then lower it. No point trying to bullshit a faux-deity.

 

“Why do you like her?” Venus asks, straight to the point. 

 

No point trying to dispute anything now. I cast a nervous glance behind me, unsure if Reina’s listening from just beyond the corner.

 

“Speak,” Venus commands. "Your partner will be unable to parse our conversation, even your side of it.”

 

“The truth?”

 

My quizzical look is once again reflected back at me. “Kumiko, I already know. This is for you.”

 

This is for you.

 

Again and again. This phrase. People and beings making way for me to find something, for me to grasp an unknown that belongs to me. As though if I just reached for it, it would be mine.

 

_This is for you._

 

_This is you._

 

What… is me? At the heart of it all,

 

_Who am I?_

 

I close my eyes, and even behind them I see myself in Venus, staring at me beyond light, beyond the void of smoke, through the barriers of mind and body. If I am to answer the quintessential question necessary of any Heart player… no, any human being, then I need to start. By being honest with myself.

 

I open my eyes, and Venus waits, ever patient.

 

“Well…” I start. “She’s… special, alright.”

 

Venus gives me a pointed look, like ‘duh, go on’.

 

“She… she’s whimsical, you know? She does what she wants, whenever she wants, and she won’t have it any other way. She’ll just whisk me away, and I’m just… drawn to her. I’ll follow her anywhere.”

 

Saying the words out loud feels… cathartic. It’s like I had all these emotions that I didn’t know what to do with - and I still don’t - but now, at least I know that there are words to describe it. Words aren’t perfect, but they’ve given an approximate shape to how I’m feeling, and by saying them they become that much more real.

 

“But, it’s not all wishy-washy, you know? She has this… strict sense of direction. She knows where she’s going, and what it takes to get there, who to bring and sometimes… who not to bring. She’d go it alone if she has to - and she’s been going it alone for so long… but I want to be by her side… you know? Like… like I want her to know that there’s someone there with her, that the road she’s taking doesn’t have to be lonely. That she is special but that she doesn’t have to blaze a path and burn everything in her way…”

 

I… had no idea I felt like that. With each word, I become keenly aware of my body’s reaction - the way I catch some of the words in my throat, my pitch hiking up by a bit; the shivering in my hands and the heavy thump of each heartbeat.

 

All the while, Venus listens. Venus watches.

 

“And just maybe… I feel… lost..? As well? Maybe I just want someone to pull me along. And I can’t think of anyone more beautiful and strong and lovely as her.”

 

My eyes are prickling, and I shake away the forming tears.

 

“I… I’m fine,” I assure her. "It’s just… it’s so funny,” I chuckle to myself. “I… I barely know her. I’ve recognised her for quite some time, but yet…”

 

Who is Reina? It feels like I’ve spent an eternity yet not time at all. It’s not like we’ve only had shallow small talk - because there have been moments where she feels vulnerable, like she’s bared her heart to me and expected me to return in kind. But there’s a certain emptiness to it all.

 

“I don’t know,” I shrug, my thoughts a muddle. “She’s so mysterious at times… and… I just want to get to know her better… yeah?”

 

You’re not saying it. You’re not being honest.

 

The nagging thoughts effervesce violently, like a gap in my psyche it’s trying to fill. What am I demanding of myself now? This doesn’t have to be hard, it shouldn’t be hard, why do I constantly beat up myself for something I don’t know, or maybe it is something I refuse to know, but this feeling, it’s a feeling right? and I’m not always good with capital f Feelings even though I’m supposed to and everyone says that I am and maybe I am good at instinctually reading others but when it comes to myself I’m just-

 

“That’s enough, for now.” 

 

Venus cuts through my thoughts, and I look up, trembling slightly but her grand grace seems to calm me down. “Thank you for sharing, Kumiko. So now that you know what you know, what’s your next step?”

 

“…huh?” I blubber, rubbing my nose. Reina shouldn’t see me like this, after.

 

Her voice sounds like a playful laughter - not patronising, but deeply empathic and respectful. “What should you do with her, silly?”

 

“I don’t…” I reply. “I don’t understand.”

 

“Now that you have voiced your thoughts and your feelings, it is time to translate them into action,” Venus explains. “I suspect your partner grows impatient, so in our interests I shall wrap this up. Till now, she has been initiating, yes?”

 

I’m starting to catch Venus’ drift, but all I can do is dumbly nod.

 

“Bring her out yourself. Go on a splendid date. It is the next logical step in the natural order of these matters. At this very moment, your good friend is on one herself.”

 

Oh yeah. Midori. She slipped me a message after she left, apologising for leaving so soon.

 

"Ensure that there is no other subtext than romantic,” Venus continues. "In fact, emphasise in the text itself that it cannot be anything else.”

 

“Text?” I blink. “So… do I write to her, or.”

 

“You’re not daft, Kumiko,” Venus sighs. “Initiate. Step up and take charge. Make sure Reina knows who you want, and be clear about it.”

 

I nod, mute. Hearing Reina’s name on a foreign tongue is kinda weird.

 

“Communication is key to any relationship, of any kind. Keep this in your heart."

 

“I will,” I reply, realising that our time is drawing to a close. "Thank you for your kind advice and counsel, Venus. But before I go, one more thing."

 

She glances at me in acknowledgement, but does not reply.

 

“I am not the first to encounter a denizen,” I start. "And my friends tell me that denizens well… they offer a choice, do they not? Beyond frivolous duels and cryptic puzzles, your kind give… The Choice… right?"

 

[♪] [The Antenna - Jack de Quidt](https://notquitereal.bandcamp.com/track/the-antenna) [♪]

 

Venus rises, but even though it’s not to her full height, the air gets thicker and the atmosphere is visibly charged. Not with malice, but a certaint kind of intensity and gravity that makes it hard to do anything else but listen. And when she speaks, each syllable carries a weight it did not before, as though I have to get used to being in her presence all over again.

 

"I have already given you The Choice,” she enunciates. "And I will give it to you each time you visit, and it will be the same choice, each and every time."

 

"You… have?” I ask, my words muddled as I learn how to breathe again.

 

"You know this,” she replies.

 

And I do.

 

The thought hits like a migraine for a sharp second, like a fungus expelling spores until each spore dissipates across my body and then the knowledge becomes a part of me. As though my body knows how its supposed to act, yet the fear grips me tight. The dissonance between ‘want’ and ‘ought’ tugs at different ends of me, and with each passing second I become increasingly uncomfortable.

 

"Will I fight you?” I murmur, not realising this is but the first half in a pair of sentences.

 

"And will you die fighting me?” Venus finishes, quietly, without sacrificing any magnitude of that statement.

 

The pain whips again, a crack that is deafening. My psyche feels fractured, and I clutch at my chest. My body has always known this, and knowing that death is but a duty doesn’t settle well when you’ve only remembered how to scream the words ‘live’.

 

"I never said you had to win,” Venus continues. "Your Quest Bed is just here. Even if you have the ability to best me, defeat should be preferable unless you have ascended.”

 

The true kicker, and now it all makes sense. My denizen is located at my Quest Bed because unlike everyone else, I am specifically meant to fight and die at her hands, streamlining the process of ascension. Some may try fighting their monsters in the shadows, and some might fail and fall into the crevices of dark death, and some might rise from that liminal space into divinity anew. But it is their choice to do so.

 

And this is mine. As though I have none in the matter.

 

The prospect of facing my mortality, of dealing with the afterlife or lack thereof, of religion and all the tough questions you begin to have but never really feel that you should seek out the answers, for the answers are decades away - all these seem to converge on me in this moment. A white light that illuminates from beneath, pooling at my feet. And then the ground will shatter, the earth as fragile as a wilting lily, and I will fall through into the blinding rapture.

 

I make a retching sound, but nothing comes out. I feel empty.

 

"You will be back. I know you will,” Venus says. "And when you do, I hope you choose differently.”

 

Her entire being moves, the end of her tail following a sweeping path. When I look up from the ground, Venus is inches away from me.

 

"Until then, a gift in good faith.”

 

I stare at the reflection of myself, now almost true to life, and I can see the details of fear in her face. The mirror that imprisons her splinters, and I yelp as I fall backwards. Out of the once perfect, circular sheen, a single shard breaks off, and clatters to the ground.

 

Venus moves again, and then she doesn’t. She assumes her original position, a regal, statuesque being. I feel her breathing, and I know I am no longer wanted.

 

Her face is whole again. Glass smoother than diamonds without a chink.

 

I pick up the shard in a careless motion. It doesn’t cut my fingers.

 

And each step of mine is hasty as I retreat down the mountain.

* * *

 

"Hey, Aoi.”

 

“Kumiko? I wasn’t expecting you.”

 

“Oh no. Am I disturbing? I can always call back-"

 

"No, no, it’s fine. What’s up?”

 

Aoi sounds tired, but the kind of fatigue wrapped in a smile. My heart almost aches at how kind she can be.

 

“I do have a favour to ask of you, but I just wanted to check up on you, you know?”

 

“Oh Kumiko, I’m fine. Things are better, and well… how about you?”

 

“I’ve had quite a day. A story for another time.”

 

I feel as though Aoi raises her eyebrows on the other end. “Then I’ll make sure you tell me then. We should catch up soon, you know? Properly.”

 

“Yeah,” I smile. “Which brings me back to my point, because I don’t want to hold you up much longer-“

 

“Kumiko-“

 

“I’m tired as well,” I sigh. “I haven’t visited your land yet, huh? Shall we meet there? Sooner rather than later.”

 

“Of course,” she chuckles. “You’re welcome here any time.”

 

“But before that,” I ask, biting my lip. “Can I ask for a favour?”

 

“You don’t have to ask twice,” Aoi sighs.

 

My fist bunches up the edge of my shirt, because I sound like an idiot. But something in Venus got to me, maybe because I’m eager to put the entire latter part of our conversation out of my mind.

 

"Can we borrow your land?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A pretty monstrous chapter with a monster.
> 
> What a day for Kumiko, huh? Now she’s got lots to think about, and so do you!
> 
> Thank you for reading my story,


	50. Jazz Improv 3.5.3 (Natsuki)

"Hey, Suntory?"

 

"Yes?”

 

[♪] [Nocturne in E-flat major, Op. 9, No. 2 - Frederic Chopin](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9E6b3swbnWg) [♪] 

 

The cavern with the open roof has become one of my favourite refuges, a sanctuary for me to rest and reflect. Asuka's grilled me once more today, and she will again tomorrow. The night sky is calming on the eyes, the way the indigo reflects my own, Skaia out of sight and out of mind. 

 

The lake moves to an unknown rhythm, the waves commandeered by a sinister moon that lurks below. I don't dream of Tsukuyomi - another problem for another time. As the water advances and recedes around my bare ankles, heels dug into sand softened by time, I feel at ease.

 

“Do you think I can do it?”

 

Suntory sits a few paces away from me, knees tucked into their chest as they stare at the ripples in the lake. “I have always believed in you, Heiress.”

 

“I’ve told you a thousand times,” I chuckle, my fingers running over sand. “Just call me Natsuki.”

 

“Natsuki,” they respond, apprehensive. “For me, one’s latent ability has always been about will, and not necessarily skill.”

 

I blow at my fringe, watching the strands against the sky. “I’ve never seen myself as the particularly determined type - I’ve been rather lazy and chill most of my life." 

 

“No,” Suntory agrees. “You do not possess the iron clad resolve or ambition necessary for greatness.”

 

“Then?”

 

Suntory reaches over, cradling the back of my head with their clumsy fingers. “You are unabashedly you. You exhibit a compelling kind of honesty despite your flaws. 

 

I frown as I turn to my side so that I can see Suntory. “That’s not… a thing.”

 

“A thing?”

 

“A thing,” I say, gesturing helplessly. “You know… a reason? Everyone else is themselves, because who else would they be?”

 

“Not everyone comes to terms with themselves the way you do,” Suntory replies. “And even then, so what? What if you’re similar to others?”

 

I sigh into Suntory’s hand. “Well, it means I still don’t know why you say that I can do it! We’ve established I’m not exactly competent, nor do I have any distinguishing traits that could justify my success. I don’t know how I’m ‘better’. I don’t know how I’m special."

 

Suntory’s emerald eye shimmers under the night sky, the reflected green waters swirling within it in an endless cycle.

 

"You don’t have to be special.”

 

The heartfelt message brings out a grin I can’t hold back, but I also frown at the statement.

 

"Let me rephrase my answer,” Suntory straightens up. “You’ve asked if you are able, and I’ve replied with reaffirming my faith in you. I do not know whether you can master your abilities. But I believe you can because I believe in you. I believe in you, for the sole reason that you are you, Nakagawa Natsuki, the Heir of Hope."

 

I laugh at the audacity of their proclamation. “Oh Suntory,” I chuckle, my chest rising and falling with the waves. “That’s real sweet of you, but how can you stake everything on something you don’t know?"

 

"Isn't that what faith is?” Suntory asks. "To trust in the unknown, just because that is what it is. It’s not blind - it’s a matter of conviction. A matter of relationships and possibility. Just ask any of your friends whether they will stand by you. We are always open to the seemingly impossible because of love."

 

Suntory is so sincere that I almost believe in it myself despite the audacity of it all. Doubt still lingers, a numb that traps the feet and spreads throughout the body unless you can shake it off.

 

"I just want to be true to expectations, you know?” I shrug. “I’ve come so far, and I don’t want it to go to waste. It just makes it feel like I haven’t done enough. At the end of the day I can either make it or I don’t, and it sucks to be at the latter end."

 

"I know you have been working hard,” they say. "I can see the toll the Mage’s tough training has had on you. And it might not be enough, but that’s okay. Part of the journey is knowing if whatever you seek is worth the cost. You can brave the stormiest seas and punch a hole through space-time to reach the edge of the universe, but sometimes you lose far more than you gain."

 

Suntory’s androgynous baritone frames each word, and despite how cliche it all is, I listen like I’ll never hear them again. "Only you can make the choice - and we will stand by you, whatever decision that you make."

 

“Yeah?” I ask, but I already know the answer. It’s a warmth that resides in my chest that makes me happy and sad.

 

"Do not be afraid to come home,” Suntory croons. "Because we will be waiting with open arms. There is always a next time."

 

I retreat into the safety of Suntory’s hand, as the sand wraps around me, a blanket of safety and security.

 

"You have us.”

 

“Asuka isn’t very encouraging,” I joke. “She’s always dozing off while I’m training.”

 

Suntory chuckles as well, their body heaving and making a grating sound as the rocks that make up their limbs rub against each other. “You know she has her reasons. The Mage is a busy woman.”

 

“She is,” I sigh. Forever strapped for time, Asuka’s found ways to be productive, apparently spending a great deal of time on Derse. Her dream self’s been busy for the past few days, and I know that I’ve been taking up precious time by having her focus on me.

 

“You know she cares for you all the same, don’t you?” Suntory asks. “She wouldn’t be doing this if she didn’t.”

 

“Yeah,” I grin, as I start to think of all those who have been by my side.

 

I think of Yuuko, as my eyes close on themselves. I think of her fiery tenacity, her scowls and her smiles, her reluctant gestures of encouragement and rallies for a war-cry. I think of Nozomi, charismatic and calculating, with the best interests at heart and a good head on her shoulders. I think of Mizore, sweet and shy and kind, fighting her own battles, just like everyone else.

 

I think of Riko and Gotou, the ones we’ve left behind. I remember their patience and their optimism. I think of Asuka, her unconventional leadership and wisdom, the high bar she sets for herself and her peers.

 

And I think of the kids. Of Midori and her naive energy. Of Kumiko and her self aware melancholy. Of Hazuki - such a good girl, earnest and willing to learn. Always trying her best, no matter what.

 

"And we believe in you, that you can do anything. You just have to believe in yourself.”

 

Suntory’s voice is like a lullaby, as they hum arias and hymns to the rhythm of the waves lapping at the dark, and my weary body is put to rest above a full moon.

 

I dream of white, a song without sound, a melody that could be anything at all, endless permutations of mathematics and physics being brought into reality. I can feel the buttons of a euphonium at my fingertips - all I have to do is press and blow, and I can create. I can shape. Everything around me is my canvas, and I can bring forth whatever I want to.

 

And for a night, I do believe.

* * *

 

[♪] [YouSeeBIGGIRL/T:T - Gemie](http://vesta-xx.tumblr.com/post/162322103856/audio_player_iframe/vesta-xx/tumblr_os7t9y2d461vsbbfo?audio_file=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.tumblr.com%2Faudio_file%2Fvesta-xx%2F162322103856%2Ftumblr_os7t9y2d461vsbbfo&;color=white&;simple=1) [♪]

 

Suntory’s impressive stature fills the cavern, a towering titan born from mythology. The shoulder unlocks, and hands strong enough to mould the stiff clay it was born from comes pounding down.

 

Padma - a quadrupedal oni of Hematite birthright - joins us today, Asuka believing that I’m able to spar with two oni now. They charge forward, a bull towards a torero, crimson dislodging itself in the cavern wall upon impact as I dodge, bleeding sangria and rust, as stone crumbles off them.

 

I can do this.

 

A tide of white spreads from my feet, the glow forming a thin layer on the ground we walk on. I feel the power coursing through invisible tunnels running beneath me, as I hold each oni in place. This much I’ve been able to do.

 

But I can go further.

 

Focus. Breathe.

 

Just be yourself.

 

Suntory leaps upwards, freeing themselves from the swamp I had entrenched them in. They’ve done this dozens of times, and I can already see the arc of the pounce, where they might land to attack. Padma builds up energy, thick legs rippling with whatever substitute oni have for flesh and muscle, before ploughing through the pristine quagmire with sheer strength alone. 

 

I bring forth a hand, and the white collects itself to form around me, before expanding outwards, a kind of shield that pushes them both back. Clenching my fist, the white expels itself, forming restraints in the form of ropes and oddly shaped structures that pin my opponents back. I have seconds to get my act together.

 

Collecting myself, I find myself oddly at ease. My conversation with Suntory from last night forms like a mantra, words and phrases I hold onto to find strength. The words give rise to pictures which give rise to ideas. Giving rise to people.

 

Tension and stress build until there is silence. The universe is at peace, and I stand alone in the center.

 

I imagine my friends - a blurry montage of those I’ve held dear throughout the years I’ve stumbled through life. I can feel the touch of the oni, each one a cornerstone of the unshakeable foundation I’ve managed to build my self-efficacy upon.

 

I hear the girls in this strange new land with me. Each call to action, each prayer for another day, each vulnerable thanks for the day gone past. 

 

I see my family, so close yet so far. I miss them.

 

I take their faith, and make it mine. I assume responsibility, ownership, will.

 

And begin on a slate of white. A nothingness to assert infinity onto.

 

Hope bubbles at the corners of me - point of my elbow, the ends of my hairs, the tip of my toenails. Colour spreads out into white, and I can hold it now, in between my knuckles, the callouses of my fingers, and I breathe it in, before taking the reins.

 

I believe.

 

There.

 

_Here._

 

Energy surges out of me, a torrent I have absolute control over. I guide it, steer it as the abstract takes form, occupying and conquering everything it touches. 

 

My feet leave the ground, not because of weightlessness; my body ascending as great clumps of white anchor themselves like new legs, roots that attach themselves to rocks and digging deep into the earth to get a better hold. They spread like tendrils and flowers, a garden flourishing beneath me as my support as I continue to rise.

 

The cavern opens up, my power brimming and expanding into the heavens above. Belief is bourgeoning within me, a kind of confidence I can embody as the white branches out with me as the trunk. I embody hope, I am a tree of life and death and everything between and beyond, transmuting the physical into the divine. The sky ruptures at my command, a cleavage seared into the empyrean, as I inspire and terrify.

 

The land quakes as I return to the earth, remaining grounded as I move to claim my subjects. The oni offer no resistance as I attest to my inheritance, the white enveloping them and their gems as they become an extension of me. I, the emanation of powers holy and unfathomable.

 

Making a point, both onis clash at my behest, a symbol of fortitude unbreakable. It is as effortless as existing, and I break them apart just as easily, vassals on standby. Vessels for me to enter and exit. Glory rings like a bell of celebration, grace unfurling its six wings that I ride upon, lifting me above the swell of the wind. 

 

I believe, and I am here. I am in control.

 

This is a genesis of heretofore unprecedented, a fleeting moment leaving its mark on reality. As the initial outpour starts to die down, I humble myself, finding a consistent pulse with which my orchestra drums to.

 

A rainbow spills from my breach in the sky, half a bridge connecting my land to a world of unknowns. It’s a gentle reminder of today, of things to come.

 

I look at the back of my hands, light tracing the outline, white accentuating the contours and nicks. With a sweeping gesture, I dispel everything, as my feet reach the ground, lighter than before. 

 

I’ve done it. I’ve made it. I am triumphant.

 

_I am in control._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been so super stoked for this chapter, in particular because of the amazing song (that was the o̶n̶l̶y̶ good part of Attack on Titan Season 2). You'll notice that I've cut it out (it's only the first part) and uploaded the song myself. Hopefully it stays up!
> 
> More than once, I've spoken about how I'd like Soundscape to be a story that doesn't have a central protagonist, but Natsuki is basically the closest there is, not because she's my favourite (she's not, sorry /: ) but because to me she fits the trope of a typical hero's journey (along with Hazuki). There have been quite a few story elements leading up to it but I think this is a very significant and satisfying milestone for Natsuki, and I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> As always, thank you for writing my story.
> 
> (also yay! 50 chapters! here's to 50 more)


	51. Jazz Improv 3.7.2 (Nozomi)

[♪] [Acid Rain - Lorn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nxg4C365LbQ) [♪]

 

Misty, murky, morose. The smell of damp fabric and mouldy bricks seeps into every corner; imagine petrichor, but thicker, denser.

 

When a land’s first qualifier is ‘rain’, a few things come to mind. It doesn’t have to be melodramatic like this - spring showers under a summer sun, morning dew coupled with night fog. 

 

But Mizore’s planet stirs the imagination inside a melting pot of myths and cultures, and spits it back out. The general aesthetic is that of an industrial harbour, a place for sailors to dock and then do business in a quaint town that has forgotten lumber.

 

Except, there are no boats, and there is no sea. Only slick, cold metal, and the ever present humdrum of water hitting the cobbled pavement, coagulating into puddles and coating beached rocks that will never have waves dashing on them.

 

I keep my hands in my pockets, hood over my head even though the water soaks through to my fringe. After a bit of walking, I pull it back, letting myself immerse in this strange atmosphere. Jarring yellow lights seem to cut through the haze every now and then, whether it’s from the lighthouse in the distance, or empty cars pretending to be zombies for a bit.

 

There’s this pervasive feeling that I’m not alone. Eyes that aren’t there, watching intently from every angle. I remember the second half of the planet’s name, the qualifier that disturbs me. But I shrug it off, because there’s no point worrying about what you don’t know. I deal with probabilities and certainties, and everything else is the flip of a coin. 

 

I carry on.

 

The rain is bitter on my tongue, picking up the tang of iron and steel. I try to inhabit the kind of psychology that must run through Mizore’s mind, the kind of influence and pull inhabiting this land. I hated mine enough that I ran away from it, away from the grey wind into greener pastures and brighter shores.

 

And then, the house. It couldn’t be more unwelcoming from the outside, looking dark and hollow as though she lives inside a cruel dream she refuses to wake up from. I look harder, and deduce that she’s literally boarded it up, whether with curtains or cardboard or anything, preventing any iota of light from entering or escaping. Even more disconcerting, considering that she’s cut off all forms of communication from the first floor.

 

I’m not invited, but I have to do this. It’s gone on for far too long.

 

Walking up to the doorstep, it’s deathly quiet. My intuition tingles, but it’s neither good nor bad. Just a feeling, and I steady my breaths. She’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. Not doing anything would be worse.

 

I know the four digit code to prevent her alarm from setting off - even if she didn’t tell me. As I punch that in with my left, my right summons liquid light, as it fits itself into the snug grooves of her lock, forming a key that solidifies. One last breath, and I turn it.

 

[♪] [Steroids (A.G. Cook SXSW Boiler Room Remix) - Mr Oizo ft Uffie](https://soundcloud.com/xnekolion/uffie-steroids-ag-cook-remix) [♪]

 

“Wha-"

 

There’s scratching, a heavy bass beat, and pulsing neon colours in orange and pink and sickly green. High-pitched electronic stuttering, foreign sights and sounds, an environment beyond a 180 shift from the dreary, unceasing rain just two paces behind me.

 

It’s the very definition of psychedelic. 

 

To say I am unprepared is the biggest understatement of… ever.

 

Mizore lounges on her couch, the intersection of a chaotic swirl of colour. There is a glass drooping from her hand, and bottles strewn all about the floor. The drum loop's a bouncing basketball that could cause anxiety, a steady, fast-paced march into insanity.

 

I blink, and close the door behind me. Mizore looks up, one eyelid half open with a wonky smile.

 

“Izz’at you, Noshomi?” she giggles. "Grrrrr-ate~”

 

Her voice still has a tender quality to it, except now it’s sing-song, unhinged. The clapping of the song gets more unnerving with each second, an applause to Mizore’s performance - because this cannot be anything but acting.

 

“You’re drunk,” I note, wondering how she procured hard liquor in the middle- of course it’s _alchemy_. Many things start to add up, this recent development shedding light on her behaviour of the past few days.

 

“Have you been hung over when we train?"

 

She ignores my question, reclining deeper into the couch with her arms spread open. The remaining ten percent of her glass spills over, staining the fabric and making it sticky to the touch. “I wanna tusshhh your hairrrr,” she purrs, grabbing at thin air like a toddler.

 

"I should come back when you’re sober,” I say, uncomfortable, turning to leave.

 

“Noo..! Dun’t leeeeeave meeeee,” she stretches her words, tugging on the back of my hoodie and then stumbling, falling forward. I catch her, and she’s heavy because her body goes limp for a moment, weight dead to the world. And then like a computer rebooting she comes back on, almost gasping for air.

 

“Ffffine then. Go..!"

 

She pushes me away, the backward force causing her to plop back onto the couch. “Whyyy’rrre you still here? Go! Leave, like you alwaysh do.”

 

My blood turns cold, liquid into ice, freezing me to the spot.

 

“Leave..?"

 

But I already know, the truth illuminating itself. It all clicks into place, and I see the chain of events, cause and effect, dredging up a mountain of regrets.

 

_I had left the band._

 

I realised that I haven’t actually told Mizore.

 

And I hadn’t told Mizore, not because I forgot or anything, but because I never felt I had to.

 

Mizore had always been above the politics. Or beneath it, under the radar, unnoticed. She was, is, the only oboe, and there weren’t any seniors she could’ve had a beef with. She just kept her head low, and practiced alone, as she always does, quietly and diligently. 

 

How could I have asked her to join my coup? I didn’t want to drag her with me, and I thought that she’d understand. I got carried away after, and didn’t get to talk to her for a while, but after that it was always tough to find her. I had an inkling she might’ve been avoiding me but I had no clue as to why.

 

But now I know.

 

This seemingly innocuous mistake has compounded into varying disastrous degrees of miscommunication, a yawning chasm left unattended such that I can no longer leap to the other side. She’s left these feelings stirring in her for so long… how do I even begin? How do I explain this do her, how, when she’s currently drunk out of her mind?

 

_Just tell her what you know, dumbass. Write it down somewhere, text her, where she can see it after the fact._

 

“Why’d you gotta hurt me like that hmmh?” she drawls, words slurring into sentences. “I meant that lil’ to ya? Did’ja hate me thaaaat much?”

 

“No..! Mizore,” I start, holding her flailing arms-

 

“Maaaybe, I should hate chu too,” she coughs, wriggling out from my grasp. “I can. I caaaan. Hate is just the other side of love, yea?"

 

And it hits me again. The wham. I’m such a _fucking idiot_ , and now with these abilities I know too much. Coming here was a terrible mistake, but what other choice do I have? Coming tomorrow, when she’ll be drunk again? 

 

Everything’s all so screwed up, that one of my best friends just fucking _confessed_ to me while under the influence, unaware and unable to take it back, when she would’ve never ever in a million years been able to otherwise.

 

I don’t even-

 

Mizore curls into a fetal position, her blush just a few shades short of her ruby eyes. She hacks and coughs, as she retreats even further into herself, her small body heaving with tears. I pat her back, but she swats me away.

 

I feel helpless, even as the disturbingly upbeat music continues to play, to a one-woman party where no one’s having fun. I grab a towel from the bathroom - too dry, she hasn’t showered in a while - and drape it over Mizore like a blanket.

 

And I leave her sobbing on the couch, and my heart sinks when I close the door behind me.

 

As I head to the gate out of here, I feel the intense prickling of a thousand gazes on my back, the harrowing sensation of fight or flight.

 

I don’t stay.

* * *

 

Hey, I just wanted you to know that I came over. 

I… I think I have an idea of what’s going on, and we can talk about it, okay? 

Worried about you.

 

What did I say last night.

Never mind. Forget it.

 

Some… things?

I know you were upset and scared over my leaving the band, right?

 

Don’t.

I can’t deal with this now.

 

Are you hung over? Drink lots of water alright? Don’t dehydrate.

It’s good to fill yourself up. Alchemizing breakfast should be simple.

 

Don’t.

 

I heard that eggs can help.

I can send over the resources and recipe for a kickass oyakodon.

 

Please.

 

Okay.

 

I’m sorry.

Just forget everything that happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp.
> 
> new drinking game: take a shot whenever a song with 'rain' in it comes up during a mizore-centric chapter.


	52. Jazz Improv 3.8.1 (Yuuko)

[♪] [Autumn Forest - Adrian von Ziegler](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v2qOllkxwiw) [♪]

 

This is the first time she’s invited me over, ever.

 

I’m really trying not to freak out, but it’s Kaori-senpai, damn it, and I need to stop blushing, and maybe just think about, not the fact that it’s her? Just the land, maybe. That’s an adventure I can get behind - given how I haven’t been to all twelve planets yet, not even close. And I’ve only heard amazing things about Kaori’s.

 

The Land of Incense and Autumn exceeds all expectations. It’s beautiful, upholding the standard for a word that seems to be tossed around these days. From the moment I step through the gate, there’s a distinct, calming atmosphere about it all.

 

First of all must be the smell of incense. It’s like the woods are alive, with the scent of cedar and birch and all sorts of aromatics blending together in harmony. And then there’s the sights - a palette of serenity and warmth, of wilting and recovery.

 

“Amsterdam comes to mind,” Haruka told me when I had asked her on Prospit, and I can see why. Dark turquoise rivers trickle down the length of the planet like the rays of a sun, into a giant, central lake that serves as the ‘heart’ of the planet. Each river is flanked by half completed structures of bricks, like the ruins of towns that once lived by the banks. The post-apocalyptic setting seems further enforced by the abundance of autumnal trees that populate the bulk of the land, an overgrowth of persimmon and cherry and dandelion painting the landscape.

 

Then, there's a return to the East, the _torii_. They traditionally mark the entrance of a Shinto shrine, a gateway between the profane and sacred. But here, they hang over the rivers at fifty meter intervals, almost like a bridge from one side to another. The wood looks ancient but enduring, the paint peeling just slightly as the monuments watch over the land, ever silent.

 

This interplay between different cultures, nature and architecture, religions, all make me much more conscious of myself, and aware of my surroundings. Each step is more mindful, taken with care. And when I see the various _hokora_ and _setsumatsusha_ scattered about, half buried in the ground and covered in moss, I bow my head and pay my respects. That’s just what the land does to you.

 

It gives me a greater insight into the kind of person Kaori-senpai might be, if not how she might’ve changed since we’ve arrived.

 

She’s at the front porch, on her _engawa_ with a small table laid for two, with teapot and cups. The house is opened up, _shoji_ drawn such that I can see into her house, but I avert my eyes.

 

“Yuuko,” she greets, with that gentle, understanding smile as she brings her cup to her lips.

 

“Kaori-senpai..!” I reply, holding in my exclamation. Keep it cool, Yuuko. “Is Haruka-san in?”

 

“It’s just me,” she replies. “We wanted some alone time, today. Each on their own lands, in their own homes.”

 

Nodding, I take my seat opposite to her. She pours me a cup, and steam wafts from the top amid the cool temperature.

 

“Hope I’m not intruding,” I say, blowing on my tea, awkward. We’ve never been alone, like this. Not away from the pressures of band or school and just being… two girls hanging out.

 

"I asked for you,” she smiles. "I figured that I should spend some time with you, without the others. That’s what friends do, no?”

 

I take a huge gulp of tea, partially scalding my throat. The pain focuses me, and then I push that pain out of my mind, bringing that clearheadedness to center on Kaori.

 

"You have a really lovely land, Kaori-senpai,” I blurt out.

 

“Why thank you,” she chuckles, before looking at it herself. “It really makes you think, hmm? Just the right kind of ambience of introspection and contemplation. A character all of its own.”

 

“It does,” I reply. “The short walk here was really inspiring. A real shame I didn’t have enough time to explore further."

 

I don’t think she audibly gasped, but there’s a twinkle in her eye, like she’s just heard a welcome surprise. "Would you like to see more of it, Yuuko?”

 

“Well…” I start, almost shrugging, but deciding that I have to commit to a decision. “Yes, I would,” I say, and feel instantly relieved. 

 

"Alright then,” Kaori smiles, putting down her cup. "Walk with me."

* * *

 

The stroll was mostly quiet, interspersed with comments on the flora and architecture. Kaori would be a tour-guide of sorts, but mainly of things that caught her interest.

 

She has a reserved character and a pleasant disposition, which doesn’t change in the slightest. This is a stark contrast to my usual behaviour: loud bordering on rowdy, energetic and extroverted. In this moment, where I have Kaori all to myself - something I could’ve only dreamed of, all my previous declarations of love and fangirlish-ness seem embarrassing in retrospect. Because it seems so jarring and far removed from the kind of behaviour that Kaori has that I seem like a petulant child.

 

Silence leaves room for thoughts to speak, and during our walk I begin to question it all. Was it for show? I don’t have the urge to burst into a whole spiel on how great she is when I’m with her, because I know that she knows I care. Was it to ‘claim’ my ‘territory’, being hyper-aggressive and letting everyone know that this is someone important to me, someone I am proud of, someone I want to protect? Maybe it was some not-so-subconscious form of attaching myself to her, letting her - and everyone - know that I want to inherit her legacy. If I was the most vocal, the natural choice would fall onto me, yes?

 

This makes me seem incredibly selfish, even at times when I had claimed that 'I’d do anything for Kaori-senpai’. I just can’t see how anything I said and did would really benefit her, and that’s… worrying.

 

She’s right. This land really digs deep into you, laying the foundation for some serious reflection. And I’m not sure if that’s a good thing, that I like what I see.

 

“You alright there?” Kaori asks, as we turn the final corner back to her house. She looks to be asking ‘a penny for your thoughts?’ with her expression, but I don’t answer that.

 

“Mm,” I smile, a rather pathetic attempt at one. She doesn’t question me further, as we take off our shoes at the front before heading into her room.

 

Despite the renovations, she’s left her room untouched, small but not cramped. Stacks of neat laundry sit on her bed, and everything's efficiently organised. I spot folders of different subjects sitting on her bookshelves, along with a whole bunch of academic textbooks that won’t be needed for the foreseeable future. I glance towards her worktable, where colour coded notes and texts detailing anything from our universe’s lore to battle tactics, are tidily stacked. There is a position and function to everything, flowing seamlessly. I can almost imagine a typical day for Kaori.

 

“I hope it’s alright,” Kaori says, implicitly apologising, sitting down on the floor next to her bed.

 

“It’s fine,” I reply, exchanging pleasantries. I bite the insides of my cheek, because it shouldn’t be this awkward. Dang.

 

Kaori snaps her fingers, and the lights begin to dim and change hue. Amber floods the room, and it does feel warmer as well, simulating being next to a fireplace.

 

“I don’t think that’s a normal feature of your house,” I whistle. “Did you alchemise that, or..?”

 

Kaori reaches under her desk, and pulls out a charm. “I work with these now,” she grins. “Asuka chides me for being too reliant on them but I want to get more familiar with them. They’re all I ever use these days."

 

Right. Her abilities that blend almost perfectly with her strife specibus. Charmkind.

 

“I’ve heard only great things from Nozomi,” I say. “She was really impressed with what you managed to do..? I’m still not quite sure on how it all works,” I laugh.

 

Kaori beams, her rosy cheeks more prominent in the warm glow of her room. “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s mostly the White Queen’s help, you know? Given that Haruka and I have been working closely with her on Prospit…” she trails off, knowing of my tiny feud with the queen. I give a little shrug, a kind of signal that I don’t really care what she does with the queen.

 

Relieved, she continues on. “She taught me, taught us, to attach properties to manifestations, binding abstract concepts to symbols and icons. An organized system of delegation, allocation, creation. Thus, magic was born.”

 

To demonstrate her point, she hands me one of her charms, and snaps her fingers. Immediately, I find a cold glass in my hand, the smell of mint taking root in the room.

 

“That’s pretty nifty!” I comment, taking a sip. It’s refreshing lemon tea. “I can believe in this kind of magic. You’re more witch-y than I am!"

 

She covers her mouth as she giggles at my remark. “Well, being a Rogue, I specialise in reallocation,” she continues. “Quite literally, I can swap the positions of objects and people with the right set-up, but I also work with properties. For example, the lights? I managed to swap out the white with colours of the autumn - somewhere in the garden you’ll find some white leaves. And the temperature was a function of the water heater. I’ll just have to swap it back before I shower,” she muses.

 

“Okay,” I say, not knowing where to start. “That’s impressive. How do you keep track of all of that?”

 

Kaori shrugs. “I guess I’m lucky that my brain’s more hard-wired to work in systems and functions. The apparent perks of being a Doom hero, or basically a huge reason why I was assigned as such. Haruka’s struggling quite a bit more - she doesn’t take well to rules and such.”

 

She pauses for a moment, before chuckling to herself. “She can be quite a messy person at times. It turns out that if she isn't reminded, she can be awfully sloppy at housekeeping."

 

I know that look. It’s one of fondness, the kind of face one makes when you’re thinking of someone else as adorable.

 

"You do spend an awful lot of time together, huh?” I state, dreamy.

 

“Why?” Kaori asks. “Jealous?"

 

"N-no!” I wave my hands in protest. "I mean... well, kinda, but that’s fine! It’s not my business who you want to spend your time with..!"

 

Kaori waves off her teasing, before looking out of her window. “Well, we sure do."

 

I lean my head into the side of her bed. It’s warm, having absorbed the room’s ambient heat. “You wanna talk about it?”

 

“If it’s not the only thing you’re curious about,” Kaori deflects, mirroring me and resting her head.

 

“Hey, you just look like you have something you want to say,” I smile. “I don’t need to know any juicy details, although I’d like to.”

 

Kaori grins back. “Wellll…”

 

“Okay, now you have to tell me!” I laugh, taking her hands into mine. “So,” I whisper, as I lean forward. “Are you two dating?”

 

Kaori doesn’t shy away from the question, although she looks as bright as a beetroot. “The honest answer is… no. I don’t think we’ve reached that kind of stage when it comes to our relationship? It’s been mostly platonic. But if you’re wondering if I like her… well, yes.”

 

I stifle a squeal with my hands, almost kicking in delight. I expected myself to be more protective, but I just feel so happy for her. 

 

“It’s skirting a ‘maybe' quite a bit,” Kaori continues, rather sheepish. “But I told myself that I need to be honest and… yeah. That’s where I am."

 

“I think it’s good that you’re in touch with your feelings,” I say. “It’s like you know what you want."

 

“Really?” she chuckles. "For the longest time, I was trying to decide if I was one or the other. I would have the longest on and off crush on Asuka, because she’s so beautiful and smart and talented.”

 

There’s an almost wistful look in her eyes, as though thinking of something that might’ve been. "But on the other hand, there were these really cute boys, and some of them were asking me out, and you know that getting through to Asuka’s impossible. So I thought - whatever, I might as well try, and even though nothing really got off the ground with any of the guys, I enjoyed it. And then I realised that I could be both.”

 

"Two is better than one,” Kaori asks me, a question without an answer. “No?”

 

“I’ve always been satisfied with just the one,” I grin. “It’s so frustrating at times, having to tell those silly boys that no, I do not want to fuck you, I don’t care how large you think your dick is-"

 

“Language," she reminds gently. I forgot that she can be quite a stickler for these things.

 

“Sorry,” I clamp my lips. “…where was I? Oh yeah, er, guys are basically the last thing on my mind. Ever. I think I’ve been an unapologetic gay for the longest time ever, huh?"

 

Kaori chuckles when she hears that. "For the record - since it looks like we’re doing this, I see myself as a biromantic asexual. Others might not find labels comfortable, but they’re very useful for me. It sets a clear path for me to navigate the murky waters of adolescent identity.”

 

“Makes sense,” I say. “I mean, lots of the time we place our identity in things that we like and dislike. Of course who we love matters.”

 

“What are your favourite things, Yuuko?” Kaori asks. “I realised that I don’t really know. I guess I’ve never really asked.”

 

[♪] [Kaoru & Sentaro Duo in BUNKASAI - ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3BNRENSEV0g)[松永貴志](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3BNRENSEV0g) [♪]

 

“Well…” I start, half-blushing. “I think it’s quite obvious that I like ribbons? I never really liked them for that long! It’s just that some cute girl in middle school thought that this hairstyle I wore with a ribbon was nice… and the rest was history.”

 

Kaori claps her hands together. “That’s adorable! Well, I didn’t always have short hair, not even in Kitauji. I remember my first year… Haruka had long hair too. She wore twin-tails even back then, and she had bangs!” She looks really happy reminiscing, like tasting something sweet in her mouth. “Those were the days.”

 

“I was a nervous wreck when I first came to Kitauji,” I confess, realising I’ve never told anyone. “I mean, it was the closest to breaking down internally I’ve been - and I pride myself on never having lost my cool you know? I was really playing it up, the whole ‘fake it till you make it’, strutting like I owned the room, but new things yeah? Even old schoolmates like Nozomi seemed to threaten any attempts at a new start and it was like building this house of cards but I guess… everything worked out.”

 

“It did,” Kaori exhales, pensive until another thought comes through her head. “I remember you telling the trumpet section once that your favourite colour’s yellow? Which explains most of your ribbons-“

 

“And pink!” I exclaim. “I know Kaori-senpai likes white, right?”

 

“That I do,” she grins. “Is it that obvious?”

 

I give a wide, mischievous smile as I shrug. “Who knows?”

 

“Well, I guess I should share more about myself,” Kaori now lies prone, resting her head in her arms. “To balance things out. Maybe there are some things even you don’t know.”

 

“A woman has her secrets,” I tease. “I don’t profess to know everything.”

 

“Hmm…” she starts. “You should know that I enjoy visiting cafes, and that I like sweets, yes?”

 

I nod, almost vigorously. As president of her fan-club and purported president-to-be in a universe where we’re still on Earth, this much I have to know.

 

“What I think you don’t know…” she says, clearly trying to build up the suspense. “Is that I enjoy making sweets as well.”

 

My eyes widen in faux surprise. “Woah! That’s cool! I did not know that!”

 

Despite my flawless acting, Kaori sees right through me.

 

“Dang, I thought I kept that one under wraps quite well.”

 

“Sorry,” I scratch the back of my head. “Kasano-senpai told me at the start of the year. I really do think that it’s amazing!”

 

“I know you do,” Kaori reaches out to pat my knee. “Well then, tell me something that I don’t know.”

 

“I like… croquettes?”

 

Kaori frowns, insulted. “Really. You fought so hard to put them in the seniors' farewell party it was painfully obvious for everyone involved.”

 

“What!” I throw up my hands. “They were such shitty senpais, I wanted the celebration to be for us.”

 

She stifles a laugh at my statement. “What a spiteful little ball you can be.”

 

I don’t know how to take that statement, so I purse my lips and imagine that I’m turning very red.

 

“Well…” I continue. “I enjoy going to the karaoke, especially with Tomoe. And when I’m at home, I play the guitar as well?”

 

Kaori perks up. “I did not know the latter! That’s really nice!”

 

I wave her off. “Ah, it’s just a hobby. You can perform the tea ceremony and flower arrangements super well!”

 

“I’m still learning,” she insists, ever humble. “But they’ve been useful, yes. I’m sure knowing the guitar will be too.”

 

“Like, how?”

 

Kaori’s always been a very decent girl. Proper, graceful, refined. So when I say I’ve never seen a scandalous look on her face before, you better believe it. And it is terrifying.

 

“Yuuko…”

 

“I don’t like that look,” I shiver. “I didn’t know you were capable of wicked intentions.”

 

She crawls onto her knees, and then moves closer to me. “I realised that I’ve told you who I like - and come to think of it, that was something you didn’t know, so I can rest easy on that count. But you haven’t told me yours…”

 

I stumble backwards into the wall. “How..! Is this..! Relevant..!”

 

“Plenty relevant,” Kaori continues, her assault on me unceasing. “I was going to suggest that you could woo your potential girlfriend with your guitar - girls dig boys who can play even the simplest of chord progressions, why shouldn’t they fall for someone like you?”

 

As I shrink away, Kaori places one hand on the wall, like in those silly romantic dramas when a guy tries to corner a girl. “But who would you chase?”

 

“Kaori-senpai,” I plead. “Let’s talk this out rationally. You know I like girls, and yes there are only 12 girls in this god-forsaken universe and there’s only so few to choose from and they’re all either already taken like you or not my taste-“

 

“Are you suuure?” Kaori presses. 

 

“Absolutely! Who would I date in my year? Mizore’s too quiet, Nozomi’s just an acquaintance, Natsuki is horrible and annoying-“

 

“Really,” she scoffs, deadpan.

 

I wriggle out from her evil clutches as I sprint-crawl to the other side of the room. “What do you mean by that!”

 

“I know you spend a lot of time with Nakagawa-san,” Kaori says, as she turns around. “You’re both awfully… touchy. And talkative in each other’s presence…”

 

“ **BLUH**.” I stick out my tongue, almost spitting out the word. “BLUH BLUH BLUH. NO..! Absolutely NOT! How could you even _think_ that?”

 

Kaori raises her hands. “I’m not the only one who thinks that the both of you have an… interesting chemistry.”

 

“Nooooo,” I protest, trying to keep my temper in check but also just bubbling with indignant fury. “I mean fine, she’s not actually the devil at times even when she just wants to rile me up half the time we’re together. And she can be nice and dependable when you have to but that’s just being a decent person! And we’re in the same cohort, _of_ course we know each other. But that hateful smug of hers and the way she places her legs on the table with her shoes off, eating buckwheat crackers dipped in her favourite packet chilli sauce in front of my face just to vex me - who the heck eats their crackers spicy?! - and the way she plays the guitar like an amateur and then dismisses my knowledge of any other kind of music that isn’t a trumpet-“

 

I have to stop to breathe as I rattle out all my displeasures, almost cathartic, and Kaori looks on in amusement, but I’m not done yet-

 

“How can any of that be loooove,” I say that last word like a taunt. “Love is about admiration and respect, and caring for someone and wanting to see them improve and be better and happy, the way I love my mum, the way I love Yui and Haruna Ono, and the way I love you, Kaori, I mean I don’t love you, not in the way that you love Haruka, but-"

 

Pause. My train of thought has reached its destination after all the loops and turns and now, this. I should finish it. Follow through.

 

"I really, really like you,” I whisper. "I always have."

 

It almost feels like a confession. Not a romantic one, and certainly not a platonic one, because I’ve said those words so many times already. But here when it’s just the two of us, no one to ‘perform’ to… it just feels more real. And sincere. Like it’s the first and last time, and my defences are stripped bare, no pretences.

 

This is how I feel.

 

Kaori smiles, as she places the back of her hand on my cheek. "I know.”

 

She pulls me in for a hug, and I can smell her lavender shampoo, feel her warm body against mine as I breathe into her.  "I appreciate it, Yuuko. And I know that you know this, but I really like you too.”

 

“Really..?”

 

She pulls away, placing both hands on my shoulders. “Yes."

 

Kaori's mention of that infernal brunette has me thinking of her reaction to this. I can already hear her screaming ‘senpai noticed me!’ in that vile, puerile, mocking tone of hers, turning everything into a meme she can use to lord over me.

 

I have to shut her out, stop her from ruining this moment even when she’s not here. Kaori’s enough to keep me anchored in the here and now. I can do this. Focus on the smell of incense, on lavender shampoo, on her deep, red eyes that are so warm…

 

“I care for you too,” Kaori says. “I admire you, respect you, and want to see you grow and improve. I want to see you happy, alright?”

 

Big, fat tears trickle down my cheeks, and I laugh as I wipe them away with my sleeves, and Kaori pulls me in for a cuddle as I have a good sob. I’ve always been emotional like this, but it’s just… good with her. Everything feels alright.

 

“I guess we learned quite a bit about each other today, huh?” I giggle, blowing my nose into some tissue as I try to push away the hiccups.

 

“We have,” Kaori says, embracing me tight, never letting go. “I’m glad we have."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ribbon girl and her favourite senpai.
> 
> a bunch of fun to write! i really wanted to explore the dynamics between these two which should really be done more often, given how close they are. it's almost a sin that it took 52 chapters to get here but here we are. and it's a chunk of a chapter too! i hope it's a good chunk.
> 
> as always, thank you for reading my story.


	53. Jazz Improv 3.1.3 (Hazuki)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the first actual late update(s). there were some problems, but to make up for it, it's a triple chapter update to make up for the week.

"So, is Kumiko coming or not?"

 

"Last I heard, she was busy with her girlfriend."

 

"Are they together yet? Like officially?"

 

"Eh, who knows. It's always hard to know when it comes to her."

 

[♪] [夏の到来 - 松田彬人](https://youtu.be/S-5GWwls5Iw?t=2549) [♪]

 

Section outing! At the section leader’s place! Exclamations are in order because we never really got to do this but Asuka’s being cool lending us her place to just well… chill! 

 

“I didn’t invite her,” Asuka tells us, carrying a tray of iced drinks. “I know she’d be torn between us and getting psyched over Kousaka and I didn’t want to cause her anymore emotional turmoil. If we have to wait for everyone we’d never get anything done so at least there’s this first.”

 

Midori summons what looks to be a berry juice towards her, while she continues rubbing one of Asuka’s little musical minions. “That’s too bad. Well! The next time it can a beach party!”

 

Asuka waves her off. “Nah. We’re not doing a beach episode."

 

“A what?” I blink.

 

“Too much sand,” Asuka scrunches up her face. “It’s coarse and rough and irritating, and it gets everywhere."

 

Natsuki leans in to whisper. “Much like Asuka herself,” she sniggers.

 

“Rude!” I nudge her with my elbow, knowing that Asuka’s aware of the joke, but she pays it no heed.

 

“Anyway!” Asuka claps her hands together after handing out all the drinks. “Enjoy yourselves here!”

 

Midori punches her hand in there air. “Bass section represent!”

 

“She’s so cute,” I chuckle out loud. “Our section does have the most people here, now that I think of it."

 

“That’s cause we’re way too awesome,” Natsuki grins, stretching out and placing shades - that came from nowhere? - as she reclines into her chair with effortless swag.

 

The Land of Music and Summer is a lush paradise representing the season in its totality. There’s the aforementioned beach, but also large swathes of fields and tropical forests, the heat bearing down on you wherever you go. We’re set up just outside Asuka’s house, a new refurnished garden where the musical critters can gather.

 

Four of them have taken a liking to me, based off er… a small flute, a straight saxophone, a violin, and a… trombones are slidey trumpets right, yes trombone. When they chatter, they sound like instruments tuning themselves, a happy kind of chaos that I don’t quite understand.

 

Of course, Midori has the tubas all to herself.

 

“It looks like they like you,” Natsuki sticks out her tongue, as an instrument flees from Natsuki to join my tiny herd - a… cymbal? I’ve only been in the band for three months, and I have a terrible memory. Sue me.

 

“Well…” I begin to protest, but now I have five, Natsuki has two, and Midori has three. “Must be my boyish charm? Something that’s lacking around here?”

 

Natsuki rolls up her sleeves, and flexes her bicep. “Ain’t got nothing on these guns, hun.”

 

I make an exaggerated ‘shifty-eyes’. “Are you sure you’re not flirting with me, senpai? Because that’s cool, but I’m-“

 

Without getting another word, Natsuki leaps off her chair, and puts me into a headlock. “Rascal,” she teases, while I scream and kick. “Younger girls aren’t my type, but maybe you want me to make an exception?”

 

She actually… has a firm arm. Not bulky but toned, and lean… okay this should stop.

 

“Okaaay,” I whine, squirming out of her grip. “I’m sorry, I was just… playing.”

 

“It’s cool,” Natsuki drops her hands, thumbs into her pockets. “Sorry if I went too far.”

 

“Nah,” I bump her on the shoulder. “Just that… at times, I don’t really know where the line might be.”

 

Natsuki pushes the small of my back, guiding me to take a seat in the grass. All seven of our musical critters surround us now. 

 

“Just… be cool,” she tells me. "I know it might seem weird when you realise that there are so many more gay people around and you might not know how to behave… but just treat us as your pals. Girl pals, guy pals, just people you’d be friends with.”

 

She gestures for me to come closer, and I lean my head against her shoulder.

 

"You’re a cool senpai, you know that?"

 

"Now you’re milking it,” she groans, half-joking. 

 

There’s an uncomfortable silence between us, the knowing kind that’s part of bonding and discovery and the acknowledgement of awkward words tumbling out of mouths that don’t know any better. Midori’s constant laughter as Asuka hangs out with her makes for good background noise, as we both ponder on how to continue.

 

"Topic change?” I blurt out, straightening up.

 

[♪] [The Raindrop Flower - MapleStory Symphony in Budapest](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v8aX4sQjSpU) [♪]

 

"Topic change,” Natsuki agrees.

 

My hand swoops down on instinct, and I grab one of the instruments, the same way you would a baby or a plush toy.

 

“What are you even?” I ask out loud. It was the small flute I picked up.

 

“A piccolo,” Natsuki tells me. “It’s kay, it took me quite some time to get used to the instruments too.”

 

My eyes brighten in recognition. “Oh yeah! You only joined band when you came to Kitauji, right?”

 

Natsuki clicks her tongue as she gives me finger guns. “The real struggle.”

 

I place the flailing instrument back on the ground, as they resume chittering with their pals. “It’s tough huh? I didn’t know music would be soooo hard!”

 

She doesn’t disagree with me, as I plop backwards into the summer grass, breathing in dew and sweat. Three instruments form a tiny semicircle around my head, whispering in notes.

 

"Have you heard the president play before?” Natsuki pipes up after a moment of contemplation.

 

“Ye-… no,” I say, surprised at my answer. “I don’t think I actually have.”

 

Natsuki chuckles softly. “Well, Haruka-senpai can be quite shy. But you’d be surprised, especially since she didn’t have a music background before joining the band.”

 

“No way!” I shout, shooting up and then covering my mouth at the startling volume.

 

“Yes way,” Natsuki snaps back. “She’s not as polished as the other veteran third years - heck, some of the monster first years might even outshine her. But she can hold her own in a solo, and from what I’ve heard, the barisax is no mean feat.”

 

I look over at Asuka, mystic radiance framed by the flare of the sun, the epitome of what a ‘senpai’ is. And then I see vignettes of the other third years, realising that they are reaching the end where I am merely at the start; a journey short and fulfilling, and oh how much could be done, how much change could happen in that blink of an eye, when three years pass. They’ve each fought, and they’ve earned their place.

 

"There’s hope for us yet,” Natsuki grins, a knowing look on her face as though she can tell that something’s clicked for me. "We know it can be done.”

 

“Mm!” I affirm, clutching my fist to my chest. I’ve hardly gotten in a lick of practice since we’ve arrived… which is regrettable. In fact, now that I can literally make an instrument, I can have one in my house, and that’s really good for practicing. When we get back home-

 

“Hazuki-chan! Natsuki-san!”

 

Midori rushes over, her tiny feet making muffled ‘thumps’ in the grass. At first, I think that she has a euphonium-creature with her, before remembering that euphos are just tiny tubas. These creatures are all tiny, I really can’t tell.

 

“Yo,” Natsuki makes a peace sign, as Asuka grins from a distance.

 

“Check it out!” Midori almost squeals, as she puts the tuba’s mouthpiece to her lips.

 

And she plays.

 

It’s a sweet, lively tune, and putting away the fact that she’s… blowing another living creature, it’s… good. It’s better than anything I’ve ever played, and maybe the tuba’s making its own noises? I don’t know, but Midori looks like she knows what she’s doing, and she’s enjoying herself, and…

 

Natsuki holds my left hand, squeezing. Her face doesn’t betray anything, but I can tell she knows what I’m thinking.

 

That moment of empathy, it’s comforting. And it somehow allows me to enjoy the short song for what it is.

 

When Midori finishes, she bows, and the tuba follows, in a tipsy, clumsy dance. 

 

“That was nice!” I comment, patting her on the shoulders. “You should give me lessons.”

 

“Aw shucks,” Midori blushes. “Asuka-senpai’s the one who helped. Maybe you should ask her.”

 

Asuka saunters over, smiling from ear to ear. “I’d love to help, however I can.”

 

“Hey,” Midori interrupts, before I can say anything. “You know being together as an almost-section again… it makes me miss sectionals.”

 

“It does,” I agree, looking expectantly towards Asuka. Maybe we could have them again?

 

“I think it’s a shame,” Asuka says. “We were aiming for nationals and we were on such a roll, after SunFes and all. Even Natsuki here was getting hyped up for the auditions.”

 

There’s a visible flush on Natsuki’s face, as she sucks on the inside of her cheek and turns away.

 

“Well… I mean. Everyone was doing their best, and I didn’t want to get outclassed by Kumiko because I didn’t try, so…”

 

Asuka gives Natsuki a hard slap on the back, such that the ‘thwack’ cuts through all the music. Natsuki almost rolls over.

 

“I always knew you had it in you! Admirable determination there, my wonderful successor.”

 

Natsuki sulks as she rubs her sore spot. “Don’t go assuming things now.”

 

“You know,” Midori says, jumping on her toes with her hand in the air. “We should start having sectionals again!”

 

"I was gonna say that!" I tap Midori on the side of my head. "But yeah, we should bring back the music."

 

Asuka folds her arms. "Sounds good. I'm up for facilitating it since you all seem excited."

 

"We should have something to work towards, you know?" I continue. "Like nationals. If there’s a goal, we’ll all be that much more motivated to practice."

 

"I mean, if we get back and nothing's changed, nationals will still be waiting for us alright," Natsuki shrugs. "No rush."

 

"Still..." I say. "There should be something we can look forward to, here, regardless of whatever else happens."

 

Midori claps her hands together in epiphany. "A performance!" Her eyes are sparkling as she turns to Asuka for approval. "And we should get everyone else too!"

 

"We don’t have much variety in the instruments that we play…" Asuka ponders. "But, it’s possible."

 

[♪] [Dance Movements (McLean High School Symphonic Band 2012) - Phillip Sparke](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D1lJQxPbJfM) [♪]

 

I punch a fist in the air as Midori joins me in cheer. Who could’ve thought that the seemingly mundane could break our ennui with the fantastical?

 

“I can already hear the music we’ll be playing,” Midori sings. “Just… imagine.” She closes her eyes, humming a tune, her index fingers wagging like a conductor’s baton.

 

“We only have a flute an and oboe,” I wonder out loud. "But I think that Nozomi and Mizore senpai are good enough to hold their own for the woodwinds, right?"

 

"Dearie," Asuka leans on my shoulder. "I hate to break this to you, but the saxophone is technically a woodwind instrument."

 

"Huh? Whaaa-?"

 

"It’s true," Midori nods. "A brass instrument isn’t brass because of the material. We use mouthpieces, woodwinds use reeds. That’s how they’re defined."

 

This fact is a contender for 'most mind boggling thing Hazuki has ever learnt', and given our situation, that's impressive.

 

Midori continues humming, and it’s infectious, the way she drags us into her imagined space. 

 

It’s silent now, and I close my eyes, letting the music take me where it wants me to be. I’ve never been very creative, but I can somehow visualise it, the way we share a stage - a performance! - the entire band, as the seats whittle down to just us twelve, a skeleton crew making it work. 

 

The sound is… amateur? But it’s full of heart, each girl playing with the spirit of five, of ten, an invisible conductor in the front bringing us together. I get a rush from listening to them at SunFes, being part of something larger than myself, larger than a duo or a trio or a section. This is a performance, and it’s the blood and sweat of a group doing their best together. It’s the invisible thread that binds us, united in a singular direction, to create and to destroy, to observe and copy and change and serve. And in the end…

 

I open my eyes, and I find that the instruments are the ones performing. Asuka gazes upon them in admiration and approval, and the rest of us are just in awe. It sounds… just like what we might’ve been, with the entire strength of the Kitauji Wind Ensemble. It’s enough to energise us, the final spark catalysing the resolve that yes, we’re going to make this happen.

 

“It’s settled, then.” Natsuki cracks her knuckles, once the first movement finishes. “I’ll spread the message to my year. Hazuki, you can tell Kumiko-chan and Reina. And, senpai.”

 

Her tone is cautious, like tiptoeing around an older sibling. “I trust that the third years will know about this?

 

"You have my word,” Asuka gives a thumbs up.

 

Natsuki breathes out, a relieved smile on her face. "That’s all I ever needed.”

 

The rest of the afternoon continues in this vein. We continuing chatting as the instruments play their songs, and we discuss and get hyped over music, over magic, about the intersection between the two, speculating how the others might react, having a jolly great time, until-

 

“Oh no!” Midori jumps up, high enough that she’s hovering above the ground. “I have a dinner date tonight and I forgot because time passes so fast and ahhhhhh..!”

 

“Slow down, partner,” Natsuki holds her pinky finger as she drags the panicking ball of fluff to earth. “I’m sure she’ll understand.”

 

“It’s too late to cook up anything,” Midori flaps her arms. “Ehhhh.”

 

Asuka jumps in to save the day, as usual. “There’s still two hours before that, right? Call her now, and tell her to get something filling to eat first. And then, prepare a kickass dessert. That would be phenomenal, eh?”

 

Midori doesn’t hesitate, hugging Asuka. “Thank you so much! Ok ok ok, I’ll bounce first. Thanks for having me! See you all in a bit!”

 

And like that, she’s gone again, zipping off.

 

“Young love,” Natsuki muses, watching Midori fly towards the gates. “Precious.”

 

“Well, at least we all have each other,” I supply, leaning on her.

 

Natsuki grins at me. “Yeah. I guess we do.”

 

The orchestra of tiny instruments continue to sing, Asuka at the reins, upholding an eternal summer blessed with festivity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally: a section outing.  
> 1\. hazuki, stop queerbating, you could work for kyoani  
> 2\. sorry y’all, no beach episode in this fic. asuka said so herself.  
> 3\. sometimes we need to remember that they are band kids first, heroes of another universe second?
> 
> finally: thank you to takinoborudesu (http://taki-sensei.tumblr.com/) who writes Angels in the Architecture for letting me use their high school's recording of Dance Movements in this chapter. the link's to the video and i'm sure you'll enjoy it.
> 
> thank you for reading my story.
> 
> p.s. thank you for over 1000 hits!!! means a lot to me knowing that this story has been viewed 1k times (even if it's maybe by the same few people with 200 being me ahaha). and also that the hitcount has finally surpassed that other infernal softcore porn fic of mine that has gotten wayyy too much attention (like come on we all know engaging long term plot and well developed characters are far better than robot smut right. please tell me im right. the numbers dont lie. now this one just needs more kudos)
> 
> p.p.s hey whoops looks like i'm the only one who's a month late to the movie announcement welp but i can't believe there's actually going to be a continuation??? whaaat???


	54. Jazz Improv 3.2.2 (Midori)

Hair, nice and curly and waxed - check.

 

Light blue bowtie, her favourite colour - check.

 

Dashing three-piece suit because looking dapper is amazing and cute - check.

 

A table set for two, dessert piled in the middle: chilled almond jelly with lychee instead of the traditional longan - check.

 

[♪] [hot milk - Snail's House](https://soundcloud.com/ujico/hot-milk) [♪]

 

And a knock on the door - she’s here! And I’m ready.

 

I swing it open with a flourish, and welcome my guest, my date.

 

“Hello~!”

 

Aoi walks through, wearing only a single braid that flows over her left shoulder. She's in a conservative denim dress, long sleeves and half thighs. 

 

“My lady,” I wink, offering an arm. Aoi covers her amused smile, but I know it’s made her day brighter, so I don’t mind. She takes it, as I escort her to the dining table.

 

“This is really sweet of you,” she comments, as I pull out her chair - the proper way, without abilities, before taking my seat across the table.

 

“I do what I can,” I grin, ladling the soupy syrup into her bowl. There are seven lychees - I make sure she gets four.

 

I watch for her reaction as she takes the first spoon, making sure to go after her. Aoi’s more reserved than most - not like Hazuki, or Asuka-senpai, not even like Kumiko. So, even a tinge of a grin is a win in my book, and Aoi’s cheeks lift with the familiarity of her comfort food. That makes me warm and bubbly on the inside.

 

“Candlenight dessert isn’t exactly traditional, but I didn’t have enough time to whip up more,” I apologise, shifting the cookbook across the counter to her left and out of sight. “You got my text right?”

 

“This will be filling enough,” Aoi says, wiping her mouth. “Thank you for the meal, Midori.”

 

“It’s no problem,” I smile a big, toothy grin.

 

The rest of the meal goes off without a word. This is the tough part - breaking the ice, making things less awkward. Aoi’s never one for many words, and before we even came here I hardly knew here. When I approached her a week and a half into this ‘adventure’, with my 'proposal' and all, I hardly expected her to agree. There was a long stretch of silence, those green eyes clearer than the sapphires on my land projecting my reflection back at me, and I thought I had botched it. I really did.

 

_But she said yes._

 

And why the heck not? If we’re to experiment romantically in any way, it might as well be here, right?

 

“You know, you don’t have to step around me so much,” Aoi says, the soft clinking of utensils signifying her finishing her meal. I hadn’t even worked my way to half of my portion.

 

“Ah well,” I rub my hands together under the table. "I mean, it’s my first time preparing a date, yeah? I just wanna well… do it right.”

 

Aoi sighs, but its not an exasperated one. “You know, there’s little point doing it right if you’re so uptight about it."

 

"Am not..!” I protest, before piping down. "I mean well, a bit. Of course I’m a bit scared about screwing up haha. And I just wanna… impress you? Not to show off myself, but like, I want you to have a great time.”

 

She gets up from her seat, and even as I get up to help her, she motions for me to stay, and she walks over.

 

"I am,” Aoi says, and her sincerity is in her soft smile. "But you should too."

 

Aoi gives my hair a small tousle, before coming in for a hug. Her dress is a nice kind of rough, tactually stimulating and pleasing. I just want to hold her for a long time.

 

"Were you scared when it was your first time preparing for a date?” I ask, my voice muffled into her shoulder.

 

"Oh yeah, sure,” she replies, slowly breaking away. "But I realised that in the end I can’t control everything. I can’t see into the future, much less micromanage it, and it’s best to just let… time take care of the rest, right? Whatever happens happens, and I’ll worry then. But not now."

 

The uncertainty doesn’t feel like something I can deal with, but that’s life… isn’t it? Even when you have all these cool superpowers, you can’t change everything. You shouldn’t change everything. You shouldn’t have to change people.

 

My shoulders start to relax.

 

Aoi returns to her seat, and watches me finish slurping down my bowl. I giggle at the funny noises I make, and Aoi does too, maybe because it reminds her of a time when we could just be silly as kids? I don’t know.

 

Then, we retreat to my couch, put in High School Musical 3 into the TV - Hazuki’s recommendation, what an adorable dweeb - as we snuggle under blankets and watch the movie.

 

“You know,” Aoi tells me, squinting at the fansubbed lyrics of ‘I Want It All’. “Despite the cliche plot and very specific lyrics, I’ve always found the songs to be fantastic. Like from a musical standpoint? Good stuff.”

 

“I’m not sure I agree,” I grin, being a stickler for music. “But I guess I’ll have to give it to them on some songs. The beat can really be addictive.”

 

“Mm,” Aoi agrees, non committal. We continue staring at the screen for a few more minutes.

 

[♪] I[nnocence - Madeon ft. Aquilo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lz10F2Rtqv8) [♪]

 

The movie fades into the background, empty dialogue like the waves washing up on a beach. I turn my attention to Aoi.

 

"Hey, this is our erm, third date?"

 

"I wasn’t aware we were counting,” she replies.

 

"I mean, we don’t have to,” I shrug. "I do, because well its shown how much time we’ve spent together?”

 

She leans closer to me. “Well, three isn’t a hard number to count to.”

 

As if for emphasis, she sticks up her thumb, index, and then middle finger. 

 

“Yeah, well…” I say, her tiny joke going over my head as I gather the courage to ask the questions I’ve been wanting to. “Three isn’t a lot I guess, but then again, what is in a relationship? Some end after a date or two, and well… I’m not sure how much time we might have together, and I… I like what we currently have.”

 

I seem to have gotten Aoi’s attention, as she turns to face me now, the both of us huddled in a tangle of blankets. The movie is nothing but white noise, now.

 

“Point being,” I shift, taking a deep breath. “I’m not sure if it’s time to well… take this further?”

 

Aoi is gentle, placing a careful hand on mine. “What do you mean?”

 

“I’m sorry!” I bring my fingers to my face, trying to cover my embarrassed blush. “I don’t really know how this works since well… this is my first time?"

 

"Believe it or not, it’s my first too,” Aoi says.

 

“Well, what I mean is,” I clench my eyes tight, wanting to get this over with. “Do you want to like… try making out and stuff, and then see where things might go on from there..?”

 

“Woah, woah, woah-“

 

Aoi recoils, and she realises how that might look to me, and there’s this split second of silence before she starts talking. “Midori, I’m so sorry-"

 

"No no I’m sorry!” I start, raising my voice to be louder than hers. "If you’re uncomfortable we can just forget I asked anything, and just move on and watch this movie, I don’t wanna ruin-"

 

“That’s not the point..?” Aoi assures me. "I mean, how old are you-"

 

Oh, is that what she’s worried about? “I’m turning sixteen this year! Which is well above the age of consent, and not like that matters where we are, and you’re eighteen already, aren’t you?"

 

“That’s really… not…” Aoi starts, her hands fidgeting like she’s trying to find the right word, before she gives up. “Midori… I’m just… not…”

 

“Is it because I look too young,” I whisper, leaning against the couch, away from Aoi, staring at a blank ceiling.

 

“No- …yes? Midori, look-“

 

I turn away, curled up, hands tucked between my thighs. They feel so cold, and I just want to be warm now. “I knew it. Everyone’s always treating me like a child-“

 

“Hey, Midori. Hey.”

 

Aoi tries to turn me around, but I flinch, more on impulse, and then realise that I’m being a really shitty brat, the spoiled child I just said I didn’t want to be treated as, and… I turn around on my own. I find the hurt in Aoi’s eyes matching my own, and I know that I’ve just screwed up big time.

 

“Sorry, I just…”

 

“Shh,” Aoi calms me down. “No need to apologise. Just… come over.”

 

She’s small too, relative to most of the other girls. But of course I’m even smaller, and I fit nicely into the shape of her body as I cuddle up to her, heaving heavily, fighting back any impending tears. I can feel her breathing as she holds me, and I try to match hers, my chest moving up, down, in, out…

 

“Better?” she asks, and I manage a weak nod into her.

 

“Well,” she begins. “I can’t help but be surprised, but I mean… it makes sense. I mean, girls can get… curious too, yeah?”

 

I don’t respond, but she knows that I got her point. “It’s just… I myself don’t get much… urges,” she says, phrasing each word carefully. “I’m still not sure about things myself, about whether I’m ready for girls, if I’ll ever be ready, and the thought of having to be ready with… you, just hasn’t crossed my mind. And now that it has… I really don’t know?”

 

“We don’t have to,” I tell her. “We can just forget-“

 

“Forgetting isn’t going to help,” she sighs. “I mean good relationships - romantic or otherwise - are all built on good communication and understanding, yeah? We should… try.”

 

I break away from her. “Yeah I guess.”

 

Aoi straightens out her fringe, patient. I guess we’re really doing this.

 

“Well… it just sucks to be young,” I start. "I mean, I am the youngest amongst all of us, and my looks… don’t help at times?”

 

I prod at the tiny mounds on my chest - I haven’t been fascinated so much as just… envious? They’re barely enough to fill out a bralette, and there’s still baby fat everywhere and… will I ever be a woman? Asuka’s a stunning beauty with curves in all the right places, and even Kumiko and Hazuki are like… getting there, but for me…

 

“I just want to grow up,” I mumble, defeated. “I don’t want to be treated as a little girl. I want to be able to love and be loved and kiss and _get down_ , you know? Without it all being weird. But it is always going to be weird, because anyone exclusively attracted to me is like… into some really gross, niche fetish-“

 

“Pedophiles,” Aoi puts it bluntly.

 

“Well… yeah,” I sigh. “And it suuuucks because I don’t want it to be that way! That the only ones willing to touch me are perverts who get off exploiting children-“

 

“Or thirteen year olds,” Aoi shrugs. “Well, I guess I can give you some hope-“

 

“Either way, my point stands.” I crumple into Aoi again, desperate as I claw at her dress. “I want to be allowed to grow up. My innocence shouldn’t be held hostage. It shouldn’t even be a thing.”

 

Aoi senses that I’m done with my spiel. “Yeah… the world is forever unforgiving towards teenage girls. Even here, where there’s no one else and society literally doesn’t exist. We bring that baggage along with us.”

 

She shifts into a more comfortable position as I lie on her. “You know, I’m the oldest, right? Born in January and all.”

 

I nod.

 

“But it sure doesn’t feel that way, partly because of how I appear as well. Asuka and Kaori, even Haruka… they all seem like perfectly normal eighteen year olds, but I’m awkwardly bumbling along, still more like a first year than a senior. They’re all more put together, mature, and I guess that’s why I tend to be closer with the juniors, you know?”

 

Aoi puts an arm around me, and her hands just feel so close as they grip mine. “You know, when Kumiko and I were kids… she’d almost seem like the older one, the ‘middle’ child, since we also hung out with her older sister. So, she’d gotten so used to calling me ‘Aoi-chan’ endearingly, especially after she overtook me in height which was… pretty early on as well.”

 

She has a bittersweet smile, reminiscing her childhood. “So when we first met in Kitauji… she stuck to that habit, and I found it to be natural… but I had to remind her that she had to call me ‘senpai’. That she couldn’t be too close to me, because of customs and seniority and all that.” Aoi’s expression drops by just a fraction. “And I guess I was reminded of that just now? I’m the older one here, and there are boundaries and responsibilities whether we like it or not. I’m the one who needs to know better, keep my distance, be wise, and honestly even if I was down with you? I really don’t know if I should.”

 

"And this leaves me in an interesting limbo, huh?” she continues. "Kinda alienated from my peers, never really taken seriously. And at the same time I can’t be too chummy with the younger ones, because I am older, and with age comes authority and experience which translates into power, and that’s not power I want to wield. It just… _sucks_.”

 

She’s really hesitant to lean into me now, as though verbalising all that made the distance between us wider. But she relents, I think, maybe justifying to herself that she’s not taking advantage of me, that it’s alright to just hug, trying to frame things in a platonic way and seeing if it holds up… I don’t know. But her burdens become clearer to me, and our unique situations don’t seem so unique after all. 

 

“It really does suck, huh,” I say.

 

“It sucks,” Aoi repeats.

 

"But I am thankful that you’re here,” I tell her. “This was… good.”

 

HSM 3 has barely gotten to the halfway point. Our heartfelt conversation lasted only minutes, and yet it’s like the world has shifted beneath our feet. Like we’ve… grown a little more.

 

Huh. I guess, that’s a good thing?

 

“Do you…” I start, and I feel Aoi flinch above me. Okay, I should be more careful. “No pressure, really. And I just want you to be comfortable, okay? I mean… this is a relationship, I guess? We’re supposed to be comfortable around each other.”

 

“I’ll try… but no guarantees,” she tells me with a weary smile. “I don’t think it’s possible for me to ever… let myself go with you. Not with… this gap between us.”

 

My heart drops, but I go on. “Do you want to… stay the night? We don’t have to make out, or touch, or anything. We don’t have to share the same bed when we doze off, or whatever. But… I like being with you and… I just want more time with you. Is that alright?”

 

More time. I think, when it comes down to it, that’s all we ever really want.

 

Aoi doesn’t have to give it much thought. She turns me around, and hugs me from behind, and that just feels… so good. Her arms are around my tummy, and that feels warm now, the change in position feeling like the biggest thing in the world. Are we… spooning? Oh my, we’re spooning on the couch. That’s-

 

“Yeah,” she replies, even though she’s already made up her mind. “I think we can do that.”

 

{♪} [Lay Your Hands On Me - Boom Boom Satellites](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5X9mrJVHbJU) {♪}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> based on a true story (rip)  
> reminder: for the full experience, listen to the final song in its entirety, even though there's no more words to read.
> 
> we finally know who midori's mystery girlfriend is (although tbh, it really wasn't that hard to guess, right?)
> 
> this was a really important chapter to me, for both midori and aoi and highlights certain... issues(?) that i think are really important to touch upon. eventually. it's a conversation and i don't think it's well done but at least it's there.
> 
> and yay, soundscape's finally at 100k words! and we're only a third of the way there whoops.
> 
> thank you for reading my story.


	55. Interlude: Derse (Asuka)

[♪] [Red Right Hand - Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KGD2N5hJ2e0)[♪]

 

The back alleys of Derse coil and twist around the lanky buildings that flank them, a many headed serpent who shuns from the light. Lampposts cast more shadow than light, and it helps to cloak the many seedy characters who hide in the bowels of the city-length beast.

 

With the clarity of purpose and an air of professionalism, the Draconian Dignitary navigates the streets towards his destination. He doesn’t stalk, he doesn’t saunter. He carries himself upright, with a refined, humble class in each step. The darkness is his friend, and he eases in and out of the limelight, weaving his existence with a patient, skilful hand.

 

Like all other assignments, he is acting in his capacity as an Agent of Derse, commissioned by the highest monarch herself. He treats his job with the severity it entails, having respect for longstanding tradition of muddying his hands in the grime, and pride in his ability to execute such demands without fuss. That’s what this operation requires: not the ruthless cunning of the archagent, the guileless disarmament of the droll, nor the rugged fortitude of the brute.

 

Clean, simple efficiency. A single slit of the throat, and the staging of an accident.

 

Then he’ll peel off the glove that is his red right hand, and rinse, repeat. Disappear into a new day, a new mission.

 

Agents of Derse are intimately familiar with the various transportalizer pads peppered across the city-planet. Whether for infiltration or a quick getaway, the convoluted network serves the purposes of the kingdom, and it’s going to allow him to get onto the moon without hassle. He materialises only three blocks from his target, the spire tunnelling straight into the edge of the Furthest Ring.

 

This is the toughest part. After a quick smoke, he checks his immediate surroundings. No one. He checks for lighting - the southwestern portion of the tower the one providing him with the cover of shadow. And then he deploys both contraptions - a purple, inflatable cushion to catch his fall, and the springboard platform that will catapult him to the top of the dome, where he will skirt the circumference and enter from the window. 

 

“Oh, you’re here. That was sooner than I expected.”

 

Her. He had been warned about her.

 

_The Mage._

 

Tanaka Asuka sits in a backwards-facing chair, leaning on its top rail as she watches the Draconian Dignitary enter through the window of her junior’s room. Oumae Kumiko is still fast asleep, blissfully oblivious of the harm that could’ve befallen her.

 

"Looking pretty sharp yourself, I might say?” she continues. "I am speaking to the dignitary, yes? The diamond emblem on your chest gives it away.”

 

_What do you know about the structure of the Agents of Derse?_ he wanted to say, but he keeps his mouth shut. _Don’t talk to her_ had been a part of the mission brief. _Talking is the way she does things. Talk is dangerous._

 

And then, he realises that no, she hadn’t seen his emblem. He’s wearing a dusty black coat to hide his affiliation - which would normally have an enamel pin on the collar, because he wears it on normal occasions anyway. She’s baiting him.

 

He won’t bite.

 

Having been exposed, the second part of his mission had already been a failure. Nothing he could have done, with the enemy acting on information he did not have. All that’s left is damage control, and the clean up.

 

The Draconian Dignitary unsheathes his blade with his right hand, a slick black knife that has carved into many an opponent before.

 

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Asuka asks, pointing. “Your queen remembers our agreement, no? Any attempt on any of us, and us heroes will go to war with Derse, yes?”

 

He wipes the blade with his coat, and glances at his reflection in it. And then, he proceeds to take off his coat, ready for a quick and messy brawl.

 

Asuka senses his unwillingness to parley, and the situation becomes more urgent for her, but not dire.

 

“Listen. Whatever you do? There will be consequences. Killing me won’t solve anything - you’ll worsen it, in fact. There are measures in place, and what happens next won’t be pleasant.”

 

The dignitary folds his coat, and drapes it over the window. Then, flexing his shoulders and cracking his knuckles, he assumes an offensive stance.

 

“If that’s how you want to play it,” Asuka sighs, standing up from the chair.

 

He moves first, lashing out with a quick stab. Asuka dodges, before producing a dagger of her own, and strikes back. He parries, putting his weight into the blow which knocks her off balance. But he doesn’t get the chance to follow-up, as Asuka lands a kick into his gut, sending him reeling to the other edge of the room.

 

Kumiko doesn’t snore, but murmurs incomprehensible garbage, setting the stage for the confrontation.

 

Even though Asuka is the tallest and largest of the girls, the dignitary still stands more than a full head above her. As they continue to clash, he retains the upper hand, pressuring her further into a corner. His attacks are disciplined, never overextending but taking every opening he can. Asuka keeps a calm demeanour despite her shaking hands, as the dignitary ramps up his attacks.

 

“I know you have your mission,” Asuka talks above the sound of metal. “But I have my position to uphold as well. Your kingdom will not walk over us, I’ve made that clear to your queen. Leave now, and I won’t consider this provocation against us.”

 

_Tune out the noise,_ the dignitary thinks. _Focus only on the task at hand._

 

With an unprecedented ferocity, he steps into the attack, quick, hard strikes aimed at Asuka’s vitals. Despite having braced herself for this, she remains unprepared, and as the dignitary swipes at her face, she moves back a fraction too late. A long gash opens up on her cheek, on the opposite side from where the Black Queen had left her mark.

 

Asuka doesn’t take the blow lying down. Instead of retreating further, she bounces back in, taking advantage of her smaller frame to invade the dignitary’s space, going for the neck. He barely cuts her off in time, their blades locked in a vicious impasse.

 

"My, what a handsome face you got,” Asuka winks. "A shame if anything happened to it."

 

The dignitary scoffs at the double entendre. While she might have been flirting with him - a very generous interpretation - she had also been referring to his pride, the Chinese concept of ‘saving face’ - _but she’s Japanese,_ he thinks. Two threats in one.

 

She detaches herself from the attack before driving in with her shoulder, ramming against the dignitary to push him back. He stumbles into a table side before he slices at her again, tearing at the fabric covering her left bicep. Red runs down the side of her arm.

 

“Last chance,” Asuka grimaces, hands in the air as she walks back towards Kumiko. “Leave.”

 

The dignitary walks to the window, and flicks the knife downwards, producing a tiny spattering of blood on the floor. He proceeds to produce a handkerchief from his coat pocket, wiping down the blade. And then he walks towards his target, determined to finish the job. After everything, he’ll set the tower ablaze. Frame it as a fire hazard incident.

 

“One more step, and you’ll regret it.”

 

He takes that one step.

 

Asuka grins, and the dignitary gleans the devil in that smile, and sees his queen’s likeness in it. He does not show it, but there’s a shiver that shoots down his spine like lightning to the earth.

 

A second later, he feels it.

 

The first explosion comes from the opposite side of the moon. It stops him in his tracks, and then he hurries to the window to investigate. The second rocks the tower, almost crumpling him as he holds onto the window frame, and witnesses the smouldering wreck at the base of another tower. The missing Bard’s.

 

The third explosion’s from the Mage’s own tower herself. Half the dome blown away. He can feel her gaze on him.

 

And after that, they ripple outwards like an epidemic, flowers blooming in a spring field. The dignitary can see it happening from the moon, as Derse catches fire, tiny pockets of destruction lighting it up in the middle of the Furthest Ring. Dersites love chaos and destruction, but rioting on their own soil is heavily forbidden, because no one likes breaking their own stuff.

 

This will not end well.

 

“It wasn’t easy,” Asuka shrugs, bragging. “It kept me busy alright, running throughout Derse and rigging these things. I almost got the hang of getting them to go off on their own should there be instances of forced entry into any of our towers, or linking the detonation to our life forces. It was tricky, but then you came along, and I had to do it manually, in the end.”

 

“You-“ the dignitary utters his first word, before a wave of fury envelops him. He catches himself before doing anything brash, and directs that anger towards a single point - the Mage. He will not take this insult lying down, he-

 

“Slow down there, partner,” she retorts, as she holds up another controller in her hand. “You think I was done? There will be a second, or a third incident like this if you continue, and believe me when I say it will be worse. I am giving you a chance to back out now, or do you want to risk starting another war, one you cannot be sure you will win? Come, let’s talk.”

 

The dignitary feels a lump in his throat, his fists balled up. This is not his first failure, but it is his most humiliating. Being toyed with a child like that, hand forced and goaded into an attack on his people. What will the Queen say about this-

 

“You have your pride, I know,” Asuka continues. "But if you’re going to be irrational, I promise you it’ll be maimed and bloodied by the end of this, not just wounded. And if you cooperate, I’m going to help you salvage this - dress up that pretty bruise with a bandage and all, yeah?”

 

She palms her knife, before placing it on the table, a gesture of peace, before giving him a smug, sly smile. "It’s on you now, Diamonds. You decide the fate of your empire."

 

He ponders her words for a moment, considers the challenge before realising he cannot win. Then, he takes the chair the Mage had been using, and sits. _I’m listening,_ his expression shows.

 

Asuka takes her position at the edge of Kumiko’s bed. “Despite the magnitude of what just happened, there will be no casualties. I have made sure of that. I have desecrated your monuments and left your regulators an administrative nightmare when it comes to fixing the property damage. But none of your people have been harmed. Alright? You can confirm this after and take my word to be truth.”

 

The dignitary nods once.

 

“I will not consider this incident a breach of our truce, unless it happens again, and when it does I want your queen to know that it will be a wilful act. No more compromises, and straight to the action. You walk back and there is no bad blood between us, capiche?”

 

Another nod.

 

“Lastly, I will not claim this attack. Do with that as you will. There will be no known correlation between your coming and this. Only your superior, yourself, and I will know about what transpired. _This does not fall on you._ ”

 

The dignitary straightens up, and smoothens the creases on his uniform with his left hand.

 

“These are my terms. Now walk away, and we both move on until the next time we cross swords,” Asuka says, getting up. “It has been a pleasure working with you.”

 

She extends her right hand for him to shake. He stands, reciprocates, and leaves the way he entered.

 

_It is done._

 

Asuka collapses into the chair, exhausted, as Derse wails below her, a kingdom reeling from crisis.

 

Kumiko stirs from her sleep, and opens her eyes for the first time on the purple moon.

 

“Wh-what? Asuka..? Where…” she begins, before the dream starts to catch up with her. “Oh, I’m finally on Derse, huh.”

 

She rubs her eyes as she sits up beneath the sheets, and notices her senior’s expression.

 

“Asuka..! You’re bleeding! Are you okay? What happened!”

 

The scattershot words accompany Kumiko as she stumbles out of bed. Asuka hides the red, smothered stains on her right hand behind her back, leaning into the chair.

 

“Nothing for you to worry about,” she replies, grinning, even as Kumiko begins to fuss over her, getting cotton buds to tend to her wounds. “It’s been dealt with.”

 

Behind her back, she rubs her bloodied hand against her purple gown as she closes her eyes, thinking of the next few steps and beyond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we're at the halfway mark for this arc! or kinda. a slightly different kind of chapter that was super fun to write. we see what asuka's been up to all this time! 
> 
> as always, any comments are appreciated. and thank you for reading my story.


	56. Interlude: Prospit (Midori)

Eyes open to gold; the sun as the sky, another morning during the night. 

 

_Let’s do this._

 

[♪] [Higher - The Score](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XclXvB1Gmnc) [♪]

 

 

I hop out of bed to the familiar sight of my room - but not a familiar place for me to be in. The moon isn’t where I frequent these days, and I spend most of my time amongst the carapacians on Prospit itself, immersing myself in the culture and lifestyle. They take care of me, allowing me to sleep in their quarters, making space for one more warm body and I will always be eternally grateful.

 

A sealed envelope on my table confirms my suspicions - I’ve been sleepwalking again, or some other form of ‘sleep activity’. As a Space player, I’m most prone to the whims and fancies of Skaia, the entity occasionally acting through me while I’m subconscious. My bouts of somnambulism have been mostly benign incidents, waking up in a different place and ignoring carapacians who greet my floating form but never like this. I’ve apparently written an entire letter, complete with instructions on how to proceed.

 

Despite my itchy fingers I resist the urge to peek inside - as directed by a post-it stuck on the envelope. As always, these letters are placed in the care of the Parcel Mistress, a conscientious Prospitian lady who makes her rounds delivering said mail and ensuring that they end up with their intended recipients.

 

There’s a bunch to do today. I skip out of my window, venturing off the moon and into the city.

 

Zipping through space is almost as easy as walking, now. I’ve heard that Mizore can do something similar, creating pockets of gravity that pull her around. I’ve had more time to refine my ‘magic’, which has become an increasingly elegant way of getting by. Gone are the days of running with stubby legs!

 

As always, the city is bustling. I ask around for the mailwoman, and am promptly directed to her. She’s stooped over a package as she hands it to one of the cobblers working at one of the many boutiques that line Prospit’s shopping district. 

 

“Good day, ma’am!” I chirp, waving my letter as I greet and approach her. She sees to that the package is signed, before turning around and acknowledging me. The Parcel Mistress is unspeaking, as good as mute although I’m not sure whether my choice or circumstance.

 

Either way, she eyes my letter before tucking it into her duffel, before her eyes widen in exclamation.

 

I can already guess why. “You have something for me?” I ask, surprised. The only other letter I’ve received so far was from the White Queen herself. 

 

She nods as she produces a cream coloured envelope with a liquorice seal, and she taps on the front with her pencil. Anonymous. Her pointed look asks if I have any idea who it might be from - not that she cared, but it was always good to keep track and remain accountable.

 

I shrug as she sighs, and she draws a line across the horizontal length of the envelope, indicating that it should be read immediately. With that, she salutes with her cap, and I wave her goodbye.

 

The waxy seal is cool to the touch as I gently peel it apart, hovering to a nearby wall to lean against as I read the letter. The remarkable, cursive penmanship catches my eye, each word inked in a font large enough for grandparents to read. My fingers trace the letters as I register the message.

 

_Dearest Maid,_

 

_I write this in the strictest confidence and with the best of intentions. You will pardon my lack of a name but anonymity suits me - this will not be a problem for you, for I speak only the truth._

 

_Hugging the outer edge of the west alley connecting the fourth and fifth rings, there is an abandoned brewery. The stall's door will be closed, and you will know it from its dilapidated ceiling, and the grocer who drags their cart every revolution to set up shop opposite to it._

 

_Something curious awaits you, south of the cellar, if you know where to look. I look forward to hearing what you'll do with your discovery._

 

_Yours truly,_

_An admirer_

 

Well, to say that I'm not at least a twee bit suspicious would be a lie, but it couldn't hurt, right?

 

Looks like I know what I'll be doing today.

 

* * *

 

I spot them both easily, bobbing heads of black against a buzzing colony of white. They still wear their Prospit gowns, but less formal, more dressed down, and I can infer that they've just finished another session with the Queen.

 

"Haruka-senpai! Kaori-senpai!"

 

I love it when I no longer have to jump and stretch. Floating above the crowd, they spot me easily.

 

"Kawashima," Kaori smiles, as Haruka greets me with a hug. 

 

"Both of you have any plans?" I ask, hopping eagerly in the air. "I might have something if you're up for it."

 

Kaori shoots me a skeptical glance, but Haruka's single eyebrow raise is one of interest.

 

"Tell me more."

 

* * *

 

The detailed instructions fill out the scene before me like a blind sketch coming to life. This particular stretch of buildings are more run down, more like bronze and salt smelted into relics of an era after glory. Said grocer appears like clockwork, Skaia peeking above as this segment of Prospit rotates into view. 

 

I lead the way - weird, but something I’ve gotten used to over the past two weeks. Haruka seems perfectly content in the back, humming a cheerful tune to keep herself in light spirits. Kaori is stoic as usual, and wary. That’s good - we’ll need that.

 

One light push and the door of the brewery gives way, a bell still hanging giving a ‘ting’ to signal our entrance. Fresh air gives way to stale, as we examine the decrepit walls. A thick layer of dust coats the floor, without a single broken trail - no one’s set foot in here for months, if not years.

 

Haruka and I heave open the trapdoor leading to the cellar, and the musky warmth rushes out before we set foot in it. Kaori scatters her charms, confirming that the path is clear and free of dangers or traps.

 

Despite being a former brewery, there is not a tinge of alcohol that can be smelled. It is stuffy and almost miserable, if not for a caved-in wall pointing towards the south, a pile of fallen bricks leading into a passageway, just as foretold by the letter. Kaori does the routine checks again, and we head on. 

 

“Seems like your anonymous source doesn’t wish you immediate harm,” Kaori comments. “I can only hope that what we discover leaves us unscathed.”

 

The first sound I hear is that of water. It trickles like a shallow river, moving beneath my feet like ants marching. The walls are lined with discoloured copper, turquoise and brown metal tainted into rock. Gold cannot rust, but Prospit is not made from the element, merely adopting its likeness. This underground passage reminds me so, and I begin to realise where I am.

 

If Prospit had a sewage system, it wasn't something I was aware of, but of course it makes sense. Excretions or not, liquid waste of any form needs to go somewhere, and the kingdoms are advanced civilisations. Maybe the knowledge of the planet's hollow core makes it more surprising? It's quite hilarious to know that above all the chains and darkness, water runs through plumbing pipes and moist, rancid smelling hallways.

 

“I hope we don't have to walk for long," I say out loud, taking point. The path is cramped and claustrophobic, such that Haruka and Kaori have to stoop just a little. 

 

We carry on for a minute or so in uncomfortable silence, the sewage tunnel opening up such that there’s enough headway. 

 

Dust crumbles onto my hair-

 

“Watch out!”

 

I could’ve reacted in time, but Kaori is quicker. The shift in space is almost violent, the way I feel the displacement, like being yanked out of a dream. I’m behind Haruka now, at the rear, as the ceiling collapses into the tunnel, exposing the pipes above and creating enough rubble to make it tough for normal humans to cross.

 

Kaori is still wary, charms in hand. “That was no trap,” she responds, finally. “Wear and tear, the elements reacting to the passage of time.”

 

“I was unlucky I guess,” I shrug, extending my fingers as I clear the way. I push the rubble back upwards, and then proceed to expand the tunnel, which I should’ve done from the start. I make enough room such that I can walk right back to the front. “Wrong place at the exact wrong time."

 

“Or there are forces in play that got lucky,” Kaori muses. We continue on.

 

No more than twenty paces were taken, when we saw what we knew we were looking for. The sight was enthralling enough that it became obvious, how significant it was.

 

[♪] [Do They Dream - Ramin Djawadi](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4X3RDQkNdeQ) [♪]

 

Haruka trails her fingers above familiar carvings, and whispers wonder to herself.

 

On the wall to our right, rivulets of water colour the stone, reflecting the metal it runs down from, golden liquid like ichor. And as I touch the smooth rock that seemed almost otherworldly, something that doesn’t belong in a sewer, I remember.

 

Back on my planet, the image of me. The carvings of the Maid of Space in my likeness, the twelve planets juggling in her hands. But this is on a larger, grander scope.

 

The stories stretch on for a good thirty meters or more. I spot abstract symbols, icons I now know bear the aspects, embroidered onto robes from centuries lost to time. And wearing those robes, are us. Even in the sharp, steady lines I can spot Yuuko’s ribbon, Kumiko’s curls, Asuka’s glasses as clear as the sky. They twist and they marvel, creation and myth, legends that have stood the test of time.

 

We would always be coming. They have waited for us, for so long.

 

Even as we scour the walls for traces of ourselves, the three of us find a common conclusion towards the tale in time, drawn towards the center of this mural.

 

We see Skaia, whole and round and unblemished. It does not sit in the nexus, but rather like an egg towards the base. 

 

Above it, is a creature that spans the full height of the walls. It is massive, and it slumbers, a dormant soul looking to be born. Each pattern is carved with a complexity reserved for nobles, ornaments that spiral towards its belly, the true center holding the entire piece together. I cannot speak, because I cannot comprehend exactly what I am looking at.

 

Because no matter how much we squint, this creature bears the unmistakeable likeness of a frog. The greatest frog, sure, but an amphibian is the last thing one expects in an alien universe, so far away from home.

 

When I peel back my eyes, look at the big picture, it becomes clear that all other stories seem to revolve around the frog, each cluster of heroes and adventures all culminating towards this very point. Skaia waits, patient, while war and strife rage around it, and then… the frog arrives. Is created. Is destroyed. 

 

I don’t know.

 

"We should tell Asuka,” Kaori whispers. She has thought that nothing should surprise her anymore. She has thought wrong.

 

“Yeah,” Haruka agrees. 

 

"And the others,” I add, still trying to make sense of it all.

 

I think of my three girls. Of Nozomi-senpai, with one of the greatest minds to piece together the puzzle. And of Aoi, sweet Aoi. Aoi, who has weathered without understanding, for whom answers might just be the way forward. Reality and suffering have no meaning but this is an extravagant, breathing fiction we partake in, and meaning might just be all we have to hold on to.

 

There’s just so much more we don’t know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh, this feels like one of the weakest chapters but not in isolation, but because i've basically done zero setup for it.
> 
> **SPOILER TERRITORY READ AT YOUR OWN RISK**
> 
> crossover fics can be iffy. i've taken bilious slick for granted. homestuck's so massive that too many things have to be juggled and i admittedly added this tiny subplot way too late in the fic. to hibike fans unfamiliar w homestuck or people fresh into both fandoms, this reveal feels completely unearned, bc there have been absolutely zero mentions of the frog as a deity figure, which was hinted early on in homestuck to bring about the final reveal. while the **big reveal** hasn't taken place yet, little hints like frog statues and architecture on prospit and derse would've made this much better, but alas i wasn't ready.
> 
> **SPOILER DONE**
> 
> anyway! thank you for reading my story. arc 3 is projected to end by the end of the month (july) and then we can get into some really juicy stuff. but until then.
> 
> hopefully i can still keep up with my schedule


	57. Jazz Improv 3.3.4 (Kumiko)

The ice is blinding, the glacial sheen like the glare of a pale, turquoise sun. Unlike Reina's diamonds, there's a fragile quality to it, a sheet of glass that could shatter any moment.

 

But it holds us up.

 

"Kumiko..!"

 

I can't believe Reina's never skated before. I'm not an expert myself, but everyone's first time on ice is always a terrifying blur of brilliance. What an experience it is, despite feeling like you’ll fall flat on your face every four seconds.

 

Even though she's mastered the skies and commands breathtaking speeds, Reina's still unsteady on blades, wobbly at the knees. It's adorable.

 

"Try to catch up!" I tease, skating in a wide figure-8 arc. I try to picture Mamiko, four years younger than I am now, hands behind her back, one leg crossing over the other, her smirk full of tween arrogance. I try to channel that image, dialing it down into confidence, the lie that my feet know what they're doing, that muscles remember movements of hazy childhood winters.

 

Reina fumbles behind me, frustrated. She's hunched over, hands out to break any imminent fall. 

 

"Come on," I grin, squatting and extending my hands to her. "Follow my lead."

 

[♪] [History Maker (AmaLee Ver) - Dean Fujioka](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L3yHWOFDXIo) [♪]

 

Reina nods as she holds me tight, her support in a precarious situation. I pull her along as I start backwards - possibly the coolest thing I’ve ever learnt on ice - as we begin to pick up speed, two of us dancing as one.

 

I bring her close to me, her hand just above my chest, my heart pounding rapidly. I’ve never been so close to her like this, but I’m the one taking the lead for once, and I let the blades carve our song into ice. My eyes close, and I say heck to certainty, let’s just do this.

 

With each step, Reina gains confidence, matching my pace, my speed, my technique. She’s a fast learner, and as I guide her, she mimics and then shatters conventions, an individual screaming for the right to exist as herself. She gives me a tiny, unexpected twirl, and I giggle in glee as I stumble slightly, but execute the move nonetheless.

 

“Reina!” I shout, the winter breeze chilling her name on my lips, my tongue tasting the sweet rhythm of each syllable. She breaks away from me, poise perfect, a smile from a dream. Dancing on her blades, she sets my heart on fire; I’m burning with a desire I’ve never felt before, I feel more alive than I’ve been in years.

 

“Kumiko!” she waves, making a wide arc around the frozen lake, crouching as she speeds up to balance herself. I wait for her in the middle, as she connects back with me, dragging me along-

 

“Come,” she grins, as our fingers lock. Now, I’m strung into her tempo, whisked away by her charm-

 

With one outstretched palm, Reina pushes against the ice, and I feel a gust wrap around my ankles, as the wind guides our path, and we’re going faster, faster, faster-

 

“Reina!” I shout, clinging to her. “That’s cheating!”

 

She flashes me a mischievous smile, and I feel all giddy. Our blades are barely scraping the ground now, as Reina directs me while making sharp bends, leaving steam in our wake from all the friction.

 

“You’re melting the ice!” I exclaim, tugging on her in alarm. “R-Reina..!”

 

“I’m only getting started!” she shouts back, and then she kicks hard on the ice, and I trip, and I barrel into her, and we’re flailing in the air-

 

A strong current of wind catches us, as Reina untangles her limbs from mine, but still keeping me close, and we’re still going up, spinning, screaming, twirling in the air, and I don’t wanna let go, can’t let go, frightened for my life, adrenaline shot through my entire body- 

 

What a wild ride.

 

Even as we slow down, we’re still like twenty feet in the air, hovering as Reina’s mellifluous laughter calms me down, may my heart rest in peace, and her hand’s supporting my weight, one wrapped around my waist and the other on my shoulder, while my arms have just recovered from flailing, doing nothing in mid-air.

 

We lock eyes, a moment of orchid lustre, the ice reflected in hers, fervent, blazing. I can only look for a moment, as my eyes settle on a new target, her lips. A thin line of pink, a blessing against marble skin, full of colour and blood and life, and I feel the blood hammering against my chest, _ba-dum, ba-dum_ , each beat the second hand on a clock that will never strike midnight-

 

My arms will stiffen up if I don’t do anything. It’s cold out here, but I just want to feel warm. I want to feel her. I’m tired of not being able to.

 

My hands find their way to her ears, framing her head. They rest there, snug, and desire roars through my lungs. The air fills thinner, and I just want to breathe, I want to suffocate, I want to breathe her.

 

The moment will pass. I have to do something. Anything. I want to do something.

 

_I want her._

 

It feels like gravity, pulling us in, but it’s just me. My eyes lose focus - it’s no longer just her lips, or just her eyes, or her tiny button nose powdered pink from blush. It’s her. It’s Reina, Reina’s face, Reina’s arms on me, Reina-

 

_Don’t stop now. Make it happen._

 

I move, and she moves.

 

_The moment of truth._

 

Our lips touch.

 

Ice melts into fire, worlds collapsing into a singular reality ablaze. My body is a manuscript, scribbled with fierce strokes of flame, history signing Reina’s name in ink.

 

_This is it._

 

My lips part, because I want more. I hold firm because I want more.

 

_But I have her._

 

It’s still a dream as we land on ice, in each other’s embrace. We break from the kiss, but our foreheads are still resting against each other, our noses barely touching. I can feel Reina’s breath with mine, and our lungs murmur as one. In, out; in, out. I still can’t believed that I just kissed Kousaka Reina.

 

Everything about her is shining. 

 

And I laugh into her, tears forming as I burst out, overwhelmed with emotion over something both monumental yet insignificant, another ‘first’ added to the list I want to complete with her, and I take her hands as she joins me.

 

We dance on the ice, a fairytale of two, a story never written before.

 

_We were born to make history._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay look, the first time i heard this cover, i immediately knew what i wanted to do with it. it's just priceless.
> 
> as a result, i was really worried about this chapter. it's a Significant Moment wrapped in a ball of fluff and ice and romance and it's their moment in this story. history's made, and kumirei lives. i hope i've done it justice.
> 
> thanks to jason for proofreading this chapter.
> 
> and thank you, for reading my story.


	58. Jazz Improv 3.4.3 (Reina)

[♪] [Love's First Explosion - Jack de Quidt](https://notquitereal.bandcamp.com/track/loves-first-explosion) [♪]

 

Kumiko’s lying on the snow, some residue still stuck in her cap and scarf after she tripped and fell head first into a huge pile. She’s made a snow angel, and so have I - but I have the wind as my arms and legs, allowing for a more precise, intricate shape.

 

My lips still feel warm, quivering, unsure. My thumb traces the outline, the damp, sticky parts where we met.

 

“Thank you for today,” Kumiko grins, looking at me. Her cheeks lift her eyes, and it's so uncommon to see a look of pure, unadulterated bliss on her face. It’s infectious, and I glance a smile back at her.

 

“Yes, it’s been good.”

 

Her fingers toy with her scarf - the base a dark green like a christmas tree, with a double-lined checkers pattern, a stripe of magenta running parallel with red. She bunches the scarf up over her chest, a hopeful look cast towards the sky.

 

“This really reminds me of my childhood winters,” Kumiko whispers. “Back when I was out and about and actually wore a scarf.”

 

“You don’t normally wear a scarf?”

 

She shakes her head. “Layers would normally suffice, but it’s like… I don’t know. If I’m doing something, I feel like wearing one. Is that weird?”

 

I dodge the question. “That’s just like you, Kumiko."

 

Snow falls, steady, trickling from above. There aren’t any snowflakes that I can see, and I’m reminded about how no two are alike. Each one’s unique.

 

Even nature knows.

 

Content, I close my eyes, letting the world sink in around me, my weight into the snow.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“…hey, Reina?”

 

“Mm?”

 

“Are we… what are we..?"

 

From black to white, my vision adjusts. Kumiko’s looking over from the corner of my eye, with a wonky smile, looking contented but there’s a sprinkling of apprehension in how her words hesitate.

 

“I don’t know,” I answer, direct. I haven’t had much time to think.

 

“I mean well… we just kissed and all,” she trails off, bringing her hands to her face. “Oh wow… we kissed!”

 

“We did, huh,” I reply.

 

[♪] [Winter, movement 1: Allegro non molto - Antonio Vivaldi](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JkP7slIc9aM) [♪]

 

I didn’t mean to, but the deadpan reply comes across as callous. Kumiko’s sensitive, her internal alarms set off, fingers drumming the snow to the rhythm of anxiety as she turns to her side to face me.

 

“Hey… what’s wrong?” she asks.

 

“Nothing,” I say. “I just don’t know how to process all this.”

 

“Oh,” she shrugs. “I mean yeah, I guess I just indirectly asked if you wanted to be my girlfriend. If you’re not ready for a relationship… I mean we have gone through a lot, and-“

 

“Kumiko,” I sigh.

 

“-I don’t know, this just seemed like a good time? I’m sorry, I’m rambling. I just thought that we really had… a thing.”

 

I still don’t move, the blank sky the only thing I can see. “We do. But… it’s not the only thing.”

 

Kumiko frowns - her expressions just seem to radiate off her. “I don’t understand.”

 

“It’s… complicated.”

 

She moves closer to me. “I can deal with complicated.”

 

“Well,” I begin. “I know that I am attracted to you. You’re beautiful, you amaze me, you’re someone I want to spend time with and get to know more. But I don’t know if I’m in love-“

 

“I’m no expert, but I think those emotions do qualify,” she chuckles. “Hey,” she says, reaching out to hold my hand. “If there’s anything… we can always figure it out, alright? Together.”

 

My instinct is to pull away, but I just can’t do that to her. “I mean, Kumiko… I haven’t had much opportunity to think about it but… I’ve been in love with someone else. I always have. It’s just that I might never see him again, and-“

 

Kumiko pulls back on her own. “Reina, you can’t mean-“

 

“Taki-sensei,” I proclaim, my confession enough for me to face Kumiko head on. She has a bewildered expression, even as I do my best to keep a level head. “It’s no secret, I guess. I’ve loved him since I was-“

 

“Reina.”

 

She interrupts me, her hand on mine again, but it’s more tentative this time. “He’s our conductor. Our teacher.”

 

“So?” I retort. “I’ve known him since forever. We’re close.”

 

“He’s twice our age, Reina,” Kumiko says, as though there’s something I’m just not getting. “He’s an adult.”

 

“And?” I snap back. “Look, Kumiko. He’s the one who’s inspired me to play better, who made me fall in love with music even though my parents introduced it to me. He’s the very reason I came to Kitauji - because I learned that he was going to be teaching here. He’s the only reason I’ve ever met you.”

 

That last statement, it stings. It must have. But it’s the truth, and Kumiko holds on.

 

“Reina,” she starts, dragging the first syllable like she’s whining. “That’s… not fair.”

 

“It doesn’t have to be,” I say, curt. “That’s just the way it is. He’s been my childhood sweetheart, and he still is. He’s one of the few reasons I even want to go back - so I can see him again, remember him for who he is, have a chance of a future together-"

 

Kumiko buries her face in her palm. “I’m going to die of second fucking hand embarrassment.”

 

I blink. Once. “Excuse me?”

 

“And I do mean second fucking hand,” she continues, dripping with vehement sarcasm. “Like, is finger action not good enough for you? Okay sure, you like dick, that’s cool. I’m perfectly fine with wearing a strap-on, I can alchemise one for us tonight-"

 

“Kumiko ho-ly SHIT,” I exclaim, getting up, not willing to take her vulgar tirade silently.

 

“Oh, is that what you’re into?” she laughs, wagging her finger. “Alright, religious role-play’s feasible, I can conjure up nun costumes. Although that second part is very niche. You do you, but I don’t think I’ll ever be an al-"

 

"KUMIKO. WHAT THE FUCK."

 

She gestures to herself. "But you keep feeding me!"

 

“Frankly, you’ve lost it,” I stomp around, arms crossed. “Petty insults just because you’re jealous? I thought you were way above that, Kumiko. I’m not going to swallow-"

 

The words were a mistake the moment they left my mouth. “Funny you should say that,” Kumiko begins. “I know what you’d like to swallow, once you’ve eaten-"

 

“Do not,” I warn, a single finger out. “Complete that sentence.”

 

“Fine,” Kumiko throws her hands up in the air, before sulking. The next minute or so would be classified as awkward silence but the argument’s heated enough that we’re both taking the reprieve to calm ourselves down, hopefully bring this uncalled for madness back to levels of civility-

 

“Can we kiss,” Kumiko asks, dry, walking towards me and puckering up.

 

“Wash that filthy mouth of yours,” I say, pushing away her face as I roll my eyes. “You done yet?”

 

She takes a deep breath, biting her lips. Her fingers nestle awkwardly with mine, like thorns among thorns. “I guess.”

 

“Alright then,” I start. “Let me explain-“

 

“I just want to get this out of the way,” she interrupts, squeezing me harder. “I’m fine with you being bisexual, pansexual, whatever. Whatever gender you like is none of my concern - my jokes were out of hand just now. I’m sorry. And, I’m open to talking about polyamorous relationships, if that conversation’s needed. I know that it’s possible to love more than one person. My problem is-“

 

And she pauses for the greatest emphasis, straightening up as some display of posture, showing that she’s taller than me or whatever, as she looks at me deadly serious.

 

“He’s an adult,” she says. "And like it or not, we’re still kids. Teens, whatever. If he knows any better - and he does, because he seems like a good man - he will not accept you. He will never accept you, so why are you still so fixated on him?"

 

“Alright, I assume you’ve made your point,” I tell her, ignoring whatever repetitive nonsense she’s said. “Now, it’s my turn.”

 

She bristles, and our fingers are just uncomfortable now, so I pull away, giving me free rein to gesture. “I’ve always set my sights on Taki-sensei. And then, you came along. Or more like, I noticed you in high school. You were different, and it was a nice distraction."

 

"I’m not sure whether I should be insulted or not.”

 

I wave off her snide remark. “Then, this happened. I very much want to go back, but I know that it might never be in the cards. But here you are, and I wanted to get to know you, yeah? And I just got sucked in-"

 

“Let me get this straight,” she interrupts. It’s annoying when she interrupts. "I am a quote unquote distraction, a rebound you’ve fixated upon when you realised that your nigh-unattainable goal was now on a whole new level of impossible?"

 

"Let me finish,” I scowl. “Look, I don’t know how the endgame’s going to play out, how we’re supposed to defeat the Black King and Queen’s armies. I don’t know what’s going to follow. But I’ve become more confident in my abilities, and I’ve allowed myself to think about the future. The what-ifs, the longer game. What if I really am able to go back?”

 

Even as she’s frustrated and in disbelief - a new look, that’s for sure - she still looks amazing. A different kind of alluring, and I reach out to stroke her hair. “You’re lovely,” I begin, my heart softening. “You’re like a dream. But you’re just a high-school sweetheart now, and I don’t want to start something I might not be able to finish, okay? I’ve always been aiming for a career in music, and I don’t know if our relationship could weather that.”

 

“You’re not even giving me a chance,” she tells me. “Reina, please-"

 

“I don’t know, okay!” I shout. “I just don’t want to cut off my options now - I’m not saying no, I’m just not committing. And it makes perfect sense to be with him, since he does have a career in music, and… things would be so much easier if I were to be with him. The connections, the prestige… I’m not saying a relationship has to be a calculated, political movement but these things do matter, they do matter where I want to go, and-"

 

“Reina!” she raises her voice, ensuring that it’s heard over mine. “He’s too old! He knows that - he will never reciprocate, how many times do I have to say this?”

 

“I’ll just have to convince him otherwise,” I say. “You of all people should know how charming I can be-“

 

Her face scrunches up in disgust, and then falls apart in disbelief, as she opens up her palms, her final, desperate plea.

 

“Please, Reina. You can’t be together with him."

 

“But I am special.”

 

“That’s not what special means.”

 

She lets that remark sink in, and she knows what she’s said. A fundamental attack on two pillars of my identity.

 

“You’re hypocritical, you know that?” she laughs, a tired, weary scoff, her shoulders slumped. “You want special, why not be a world class, queer, trumpet soloist with a girlfriend, huh? I know why - because it doesn’t suit you. It’ll be that much harder for you to climb the ladder because us LGBT folk aren’t socially accepted. You cherry pick the ‘special’ traits that suit you, and discard everything else. And you haven’t even given me a fucking chance-"

 

"Are you sure you’ll follow me?” I shoot back. “Oh that’s right. You’re a lost girl, just following, continuously spineless, without your own ambition - you think I want a partner like that?"

 

"So you’re just gonna cast me aside?” she whispers, but each word is harsh, poised like a knife. Fat, dirty tears are leaving a trail on her cheeks. I clench my fists, steel myself. “If I don’t meet your standards, if I can’t keep up with you… I’m worthless?”

 

“Kumiko,” I start, and for the first time her name feels alien on my tongue. It just doesn’t feel right. “I want to be special. Where I’m going, not everyone can follow."

 

“You’re not special if you’re just going to keep climbing without regard for anyone else,” she says. "That’s just like all the other heartless, ambitious jerks. And in the end, you’ll just be alone."

 

I thought she understood me. But I’m just disappointed.

 

"You really are horrible."

 

There’s no waiting. She doesn’t want me to stay, and I want out. I leave, not bothering to leave footprints in the snow, just floating up, up, up, towards the gates that lead out.

 

I don’t look back. I know she isn’t following me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh no.
> 
> i think each subsequent chapter i write is giving me a heartache.
> 
> once again, thanks to jason for proofreading.
> 
> and thank you for reading my story.


	59. Jazz Improv 3.1.4 (Hazuki)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot stress enough that the music is integral to the story, and that the story should be read with it as much as possible, as much as you are able to do so. Thank you!

[♪] [We Are Number One (The Living Tombstone Instrumental Remix) - Lazy Town](https://a.tumblr.com/tumblr_otam6jQNPH1vsbbfoo1.mp3#_=_) [♪]

 

Inhale………… and,

 

left right left right, left right left right, left right left right, left right left-

 

-jump-!

 

Morning jog! Feet on earth, muscles on fire, lungs in the sky. My legs carry me along the river, the beat dictating my pace. My reflection follows me, a shimmering distortion in the water, ambivalent and silent. It reminds me of my reflections back on Kumiko’s planet, and my mind wanders to think about them, even though it might be some time before I return. Music’s popping in my ears to keep me pumped.

 

We’ve all been hopping from planet to planet, and sometimes I feel like I don’t give mine enough love. Like yeah it’s not exactly fantastical like the others, but its appeal is very much rooted in what makes Earth beautiful. The simple things, ya know?

 

Five kilometres in a loop - that’s today’s path. I’ve done this enough times that I kinda know where I’m going now, no longer needing Midori to guide me - and she wouldn’t even if I did. She’s graduated from being friendly lifeline assistant on the other end of the phone. We all have other things to do.

 

But that only makes me feel more excited! We grow stronger apart, so that when we come together, we’re that much better, yeah? Everyone’s different and deals with things in their own way, and that’s cool. As long as at the end of the day we strive towards our common goal.

 

Home.

 

The totems are beautiful, but what I’d give to jog back on the streets of Kitauji.

 

I know I’ve reached my turning point, spotting the monument that grounds my direction. I should take a short break - just a teeny minute - and it doesn’t hurt to check things out, yeah?

 

This totem stands head and shoulders above the rest, as though trying really hard to be better. Its proud chest sticks out, carved in a way that makes its shape look more animated than traditional wooden poles. The totem seems almost athletic, with the amount of definition carved into it. But it’s really different because it has hands. Two hands that’s just… not on any of the other totems, or at least all the other’s that I’ve seen.

 

Both are outstretched, but in different ways. The left beckons, a welcome just before a hug. The right… I’m not quite sure what it is? The hand is pointing to the sky, and there are fingers, but the fingers are oddly shaped. I shouldn’t mull over this.

 

I run my fingers over the base, and its oddly smooth, like it was given a lacquer finish meant to last, a laminated layer of protection to shield it from the elements. There’s no worn and torn feel to it, a professional aura about it all, just well put together.

 

Weird, but I like it. It’s one of those amazing things that’s just a touch out of place, and it gives the world that much more depth and character.

 

As I turn away, just glancing back as it fades into the distance, I catch its eyes. Not patronising or looking down, but instead tilted upwards, to the horizon and beyond. I am reminder that the future is where it’s at. Forward is the way to go.

 

The rest of the run back home is quiet, pensive, save the kick ass music blasting in my ears. When I reach back, I take a swig of raspberry isotonic to quench my parched throat, a perfect way to end things. 

 

Now, I hope there’s time. I’m expecting some people and running just short on time, but that’s a-okay. Just have to clear the dishes into the sink, have a quick shower, and-

 

Ding-dong.

 

Ah, they’re already here. That works too.

 

"You’re early,” I grin, opening the door.

 

"You’re shiny,” Midori points out, full with that childlike demeanour of wonder.

 

“Well duh, it’s the sun on my sweat,” I reply, wiping myself down as I stand in the doorway. "Sorry, I woke up fifteen minutes later but I still wanted to kick things up proper, yeah?”

 

Midori shakes her head. “It’s cool.”

 

“Y’all er, wanna come in?” I invite them. Midori claps her hands together and gives a little bow as she enters.

 

Aoi is one second behind, silent as she acknowledges me.

 

“Thanks for having us!” Midori continues. “I don’t thing I have to introduce you to Aoi, although I guess you’ve never talked to her before, huh? Anyway, I really wanted to loosen her up, and what better way than bringing her to see the most enthusiastic best friend I know!"

 

“Eh, I’m not that much of a party animal,” I chuckle. "But I'll try."

 

Midori puts an arm around us both. "Well, I'm sure we'll have a blast!"

 

* * *

 

[♪] [Boneklezmer - M. Bulteau](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GIuBpl7k_eU) [♪]

 

“Round about the cauldron go: in the poisones entrails throw. Toad, that under cold stone, days and nights has thirty-one."

 

The handle skims the rim of the pot, Midori putting her whole back into the action. She stirs while her abilities dump ingredient after ingredient into the primordial soup of goop.

 

"Sweated venom sleeping got, boil thou first in the charmed pot. Double, double toil and trouble; fire burn and cauldron bubble."

 

Hiss and crackle, the steaming pot efferverscent. The whistles amplify into a scream, the wailing cauldron a stew of fire and thunder. The uloo... ulu-

 

Ululation.

 

Oh er, ululations of departed souls accompany the witch's cackle, a-

 

“I can’t.”

 

Aoi throws her hat on the ground, arms crossed as she slumps into the couch.

 

"Aw, come on," Midori's shoulders droop, as she joins her girlfriend.

 

"If it helps, I was pretty into it until Aoi broke immersion," I offer.

 

Midori returns a weary smile, placing her arm around Aoi. "Thanks."

 

"I'm sorry," Aoi sighs. "The dealbreaker was the silly hat."

 

"The silly witch hat," Midori repeats. She's quiet for a moment, before speaking up. "Alright. We'll just do it the normal way?"

 

Aoi nods. "Normal works."

 

I walk over to the alchemiter, ready to kick off the next round.

 

  1. We upgraded one (1) hammer of mine, both ends now lined with gold which we can finally afford. It's now heavyset, giving a firm, clean indent as I smash it into wood. The knock of all knocks - I'm calling it Golden Morning.
  2. Aoi wondered if you could alchemise a clock that runs backwards from component materials alone. You could.
  3. A pair of silver needles. Midori insisted that she could wear them as fangs. Aoi approved for ironic reasons.
  4. Four reasons to alchemize crocs: you can make them out of crocodile without harming any crocodiles; rubber is amazingly comfortable; those holes are the biggest fashion upset and I love it; because we just needed to put shades on the logo's mascot
  5. Midori doesn't have a specibus, but wanted to try a gun. We made one that could only squirt ketchup. And an option to change to mustard, mayo, or chocolate sauce.
  6. Okay, okay, serious. We made a knife... that could cut anything but butter (how this works is that Aoi came up with the genius idea of putting in samples of Midori's stomach - who is lactose intolerant so the knife just isn't able to get close to dairy).
  7. Scarf with a totem pattern for me, even though I’ll never really use it. This was really cool and Aoi was super into it. Scratch that earlier statement, it’ll make an amazeballs bandana.
  8. Midori wanted an entire dessert course of her favourite things without dairy. Magic grants her wish.
  9. An inventory belt with seven slots, allowing you to squeeze in objects up to ten times larger in them. This might've been the only useful thing we made.



10-13. Seasonal headwear for each third year. Aoi looks pensive but touched.

  1. I made a necklace for myself - my first proper one. It's chain linked, and I've made trinkets that I can string along the chain. It's pretty, and something I would've never been able to afford back on Earth.
  2. JACK IN THE BOX BUT IT’S ASUKA INSTEAD I DIED LAUGHING.
  3. For payback, Aoi slipped in a bitter macaron into the dessert pile!
  4. Skeleton! Or at least the fake bobblehead statue kind. Midori thought it might be ‘spoopy’ and cute.



18-2376. BONES BONES BONES EXACTLY 2358 FAKE BONES LITTERED ALL OVER THE HOUSE WHYYY BUT ITS FANTASTIC ITS THE BEST THING THATS HAPPENED TODAY OMG

  1. A Six Gallon Shampoo Bottle.
  2. A pie. A gigantic pie, each slice a different kind of filling both savoury and sweet. Because why not? It’s pie. PIE. 3.14151-
  3. And finally, an expendable, environment conforming mattress that we draped over the entire first floor. It's HUGE, and so so, comfortable.



 

We fall into a heaped pile, surrounded by plastic bones upon bones with the occasional item sticking out, exhausted and just so full of fun - and in Midori’s case, literally full.

 

“That was..."

 

"...we should do this again sometime."

 

"Yeah, we should."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look, if you're accusing me of creating a totem that's literally just in the story bc i can put a fusion of robbie rotten and sportacus...... then yes i'm guilty. i can do whatever i want.
> 
> another fun hazuki chapter, the pi(e) chapter. somehow this was harder to write (which can say a lot about my approach towards spontaneous fun) but some parts i really did like. i hope you do too.
> 
> thank you for reading my story


	60. Jazz Improv 3.6.2 (Haruka)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates are getting sporadic because school is finally starting for me. i'll do my best to keep to 3 a week, but it may no longer be on t/t/s anymore. sorry and thank you!

[♪] [finding a leaf in your girlfriends hair - Lullatone](https://lullatone.bandcamp.com/track/finding-a-leaf-in-your-girlfriends-hair) [♪]

 

Breakfast begins with a generous pick of the season’s offerings, a hearty bowl of berries and oats. Kaori admires the way the flowers arrange themselves amongst the leaves, as we snuggle for our picnic under a tree in full bloom.

 

Kaori’s laced together a flower crown for me: bluebells and yellow camellias, carnations and cherry blossoms. A single edelweiss stalk is tucked behind my left ear, and I giggle as Kaori slots it in, tickling my neck. Hers is more of a coronet, less flashy but sturdy, rustic twigs forming the base, with only two flowers woven on the left and right. A sagiso and a white lily respectively.

 

“It’s lovely,” I sigh, running my fingers through the stalks and admiring the handiwork. Kaori beams as she swallows another mouthful.

 

Life in the Land of Serpents and Spring has been good. Great, even. It's my haven, where I am strongest, both mentally and physically. Derse could lay siege to this planet for a century or more and we would be completely fine. Our harvest is bountiful, sure, but the serpents are the ones who guard the gates. They form a huge bulk of my ability, which is why I’m most confident in my home domain.

 

“I think this little one would look cute in a crown,” I grin, as a violet snake crawls into my lap. I stroke the length of the tiny thing, humming a gentle tune.

 

“Too bad they don’t have ears we can tuck flowers behind,” Kaori muses. She’s hesitant as she reaches to pat the snake’s head. “So small… even baby’s breath or forget me nots would be a tough fit.”

 

I can’t help but grin as I suck on a cherry stone, the juices coating my front teeth for a moment. “It’s amazing, how well you know your flowers.”

 

Kaori nudges me as she plays with her hair. “Stop it, you. Everyone has something they're passionate at.”

 

“Some passions are more useful than others,” I shrug.

 

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Kaori nags. “And that’s nonsense. They’re either practical or they’re not. Flower arrangement and rock music fall squarely into the latter category."

 

“Ehhh,” I groan. “They’re all useful in one way or another.”

 

Kaori starts to protest but I stuff a fistful of raspberries into her mouth. She bites into them, before pseudo-angrily chewing on them.

 

“You should keep that crown on,” Kaori notes, after swallowing. “I’m sure Hemera would appreciate it."

 

“I hope so,” I say, burying myself deeper into the nook between Kaori’s chin and shoulders. I’d almost forgotten our afternoon plans. “What was it like, with Nyx?”

 

Leaning her head into me, Kaori grins. “She was kind and stern. Wise. I made it clear I wasn’t there to fight, and we got along well.”

 

“What do you even say to a denizen?” I ask. “The concept alone… they seem so much larger than life."

 

"Nyx actually spoke first,” Kaori replies. “It was rather early when I visited her. She asked if I had eaten. I had."

 

Kaori picks up the ceramic bowl by her side, and feeds me an entire spoonful of oats, sweet and sticky with honey. "And you should too. You can’t go on an expedition with an empty stomach."

 

I have to stifle my giggle to prevent myself from choking on the food. “My belly will be pretty stuffed, thank you very much,” I say, wiping away the tiny dribble from my lips.

 

Just then, a strong gust blows from our left, rustling the trees and causing the serpents to hiss with the wind. It tries to scoop up my crown, but I keep it in place, and Kaori’s fine handiwork holds it in shape. Kaori chuckles as I try to spit out strands of hair that find their way into my mouth, ruining an otherwise picturesque moment.

 

“Must be a sign,” I joke, straightening myself out.

 

“Maybe,” Kaori helps to part my hair, and finds a pair of leaves that found its way into the nest she’s created. “Do you know where the ‘sylph’ originates from?”

 

I shrug, as Kaori stares at the leaves. “The origins are a bit confusing, with links to fairies and the like, but the closest thing to a definition, is a spirit of air. An elemental. A magical being."

 

The wind picks up again, carrying the twin leaves into the distance, up and away, a waltz amidst the scents of spring.

 

“And as a Sylph of Life, I’d like to think of nature as your realm,” Kaori sighs, leaning into me. “I don’t usually enjoy being outdoors - I’d much rather savour the view from behind a window. But with you it just seems so…”

 

“Natural,” I finish, sticking out my tongue at the amazing pun as Kaori pushes me away, pouting. I laugh as I pick up my own bowl, spoon dripping with gooey goodness, offering breakfast to her. She refuses, but I persist, and as the ‘airplane’ knocks on the door of her mouth, she opens them, taking the whole spoon in a gulp. 

 

The serpents coil themselves around my legs, but can never find enough reprieve, as the both of us mess around for the rest of the morning, allowing ourselves to be children again. The only two girls in this lonely, lovely world.

 

* * *

 

 

We stand at the mouth of the creature that spans half the planet.

 

No one’s really quite sure what it is. Except that it was perhaps the largest snake in the entire universe, and that the snake has now come to rest. But now there’s an entire thriving ecosystem taking root in creature’s corpse, more serpents and more spring in different shades. It’s just as good as a cave, which is where almost all denizens are anyway. Hemera waits at the end.

 

Kaori stands with the other serpents, seeing me off. She’s never been particularly fond of them, but seeing them cozying up to her, coiling around her legs as she awkwardly shifts her weight… it’s heartening.

 

She gives me a tiny wave and a soft smile as I get on board the carriage-sled. Six of my best serpents are ready at the helm, not so much pulling it along than being escorts. It runs on its own power.

 

“Stay safe,” Kaori reminds me, her voice tender. “It’s going to be a long journey, remember the use the portal to return!”

 

I give her a salute as the carriage rumbles, the throttle firing up the engine. The whole thing coughs once, and then it’s quiet, save for an imperceptible drone.

 

Now, into the belly of the beast.

 

[♪] [Pan's Labyrinth Lullaby - Javier Navarrete](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=19bBGxf5k6k) [♪]

 

The serpent’s hollowed, chipped away fangs flank our entrance, as the world becomes discernibly darker, but not without light. The road feels bumpy for a moment, but then the carriage somehow manages to correct itself, scanning the path ahead and adjusting to make the ride smoother.

 

Luminescent moss grows over rotted away flesh, an eerie, pulsating grow illuminating the insides. When I glance above, I can see each vertebra, as wide as my room, each pair of ribs maintaining the structural integrity of the corpse, buried into the ground like stakes pitching a tent.

 

More so than any other location in this universe, this place feels distinctly alien. Streaks of dull yellow with dashes of brilliance crawl up the sides, like snakes but not really, thin and jelly-like. Beneath the moss, there’s something shifting, liquid and viscous, flowing without purpose in clumps and sacs. Plants and flowers I’ve never seen before form a haphazard garden on the ground, a lawn that stretches across the entire length. Kaori would’ve loved it in here. Asuka would’ve died of curiosity.

 

As we journey deeper, the viscous liquid expands, permeating into larger volumes, ovoids that stick out and form isolated ponds along what I believe to be the oesophagus. A very thin membrane is all there is keeping the liquid in, cerulean illuminating the lightning bolt patterns. Flecks of red and orange seem to be swimming inside, embers trapped in bubbles that weave in and out of view. It’s almost maddening.

 

I hold my baritone saxophone - also my weapon of choice - closer to my chest, and decide not to play it. Instead, I hum an unfamiliar tune, letting the extraterrestrial ambience guide my notes, echoing through the serpent with only the whispers of nature accompanying me.

 

A lullaby, I realise, a fraction too late. I’m humming a lullaby…

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

…mm?

 

Lying down, my head’s tilted towards the sky and a burst of sun is what rouses me from sleep. It’s the first natural light since we’ve entered, with a certain freshness to it.

 

We’re here.

 

My eyes linger at my surroundings. And… it sure is a spectacle.

 

The ceiling is translucent, made out of moulted skin. And while there’s still incandescent moss growing in patches, the light cast from above brings a whole new dimension to the area. 

 

Where do I even begin? For starters, I see the liquid for what it is now - an aquarium. There’s an entire, rounded strip like an amphitheatre forming the end of the snake and surrounding us, with all sorts of marine life teeming in it. There’s seaweed, and ocean flowers, and all sorts of fishes and serpents slithering about. 

 

And then there’s Hemera. Just like her statue, but alive, in all her golden glory, an academy award as a goddess. There’s a shawl draped over her that ends in a magnificent tail, the cloth and body one and the same. She’s simple and elegant and grand and everything I could’ve hoped for and more. Except it’s not just her - she’s melded into a gigantic tree that’s anchored into this place, larger and sturdier and filling the space like it’s got more room to grow. 

 

The tree extends into multiple branches that looks like Hemera’s bronzed arms, six main ones that dig into the sides and perforate the aquarium. But these curious branches look anything but - they each have… books? Tens and hundreds of thousands of books, encased in layer after layer of wooden shelves, and it hits me.

 

This is a library.

 

And it’s one bristling with life, ever-changing, full of bustling activity. Even on my carriage, a tiny bunch of lilacs grow from the woodwork, and I stroke them, marvel at their fragility and beauty.

 

This is a denizen. This is Hemera.

 

"Your partner has met my sister,” she says. Her voice is like a choir chanting, a dozen female voices singing, but at the same time it’s so soft. It’s calm and comforting but I have to strain to make out the words.

 

"Yes..?” I start, unsure how to reply. "Um, can I call you Hemera?"

 

"You can call me anything you want to,” she croons.

 

“Alright,” I breathe, trying to find a thread of conversation. "Did Nyx say anything about Kaori?"

 

Hemera doesn’t have a mouth, so I can’t actually tell when she’s speaking. I could only get “…pleasant… forthcoming… hero…"

 

"I’m sorry Hemera,” I cup my ears with a hand. "I can’t really hear you.”

 

[♪] [Morning Hymn & Alleluia - The Sound of Music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bzNtlclLDBc%20) [♪]

 

**I AM THE ONE AND ONLY**

**THE TRUTH AND THE LIGHT**

**WHAT DO YOU SEEK YOUNG ONE**

**WHY HAVE YOU COME BEFORE ME**

 

"Was that better?” she asks, in hushed whispers.

 

"I’ll just…” I mumble, still disoriented and struggling to get off my carriage. “Come closer…”

 

It wasn’t even loud. There wasn’t a quality of ‘sound’ to it, and it’s not like my eardrums are ringing. It just felt absolutely overwhelming and… too much, like if you stared straight at the sun. Which come to think of it, must’ve absolutely been the kind of effect it warranted.

 

Tiptoeing to the tree's roots, I place my palm to the aged wood. "I'm sorry it took this long to come visit."

 

"But now, here you are," Hemera says. "Speak child, why have you come?"

 

"I dunno...?" I shrug, finding a good grip and climbing up the roots. "It's customary right? I guess I was curious as to how you're like... and you have The Choice to give me as well right?"

 

Hemera laughs, in wisps and airy murmurs. "Customary? My girl, customs only are because we make them so. As a Hero of Life, you know this."

 

I nod, and strain against the silence for a reply. None. "Well... and..?"

 

"So you make your own choices," Hemera replies. "You don't need me to give them to you. You don't need choices with a capital C. There are simply too many and each is important, yes?"

 

"Oh, okay," I say, trying not to sound disappointed. I mean, I didn't only come here for divine wisdom and a choice, nah. Although now I do wonder why else I'm here. "Well... can I see some of those books?"

 

"That's a choice," Hemera notes. "And of course. If you can read them."

 

Answers come before questions, a root sprouting from the ground, forming a platform to take me up. I crouch to keep my balance, as I'm brought to the height of one of the branches.

 

Stepping off, I find a book - a dusty velvet hardcover, intricate stitching to bind it, scrawled with symbols in an unknown language. Opening it, I can’t read it. There are some pictures about certain plants, but nothing else I can really parse.

 

“That one’s about a specific family of herbs that grows within here,” Hemera says. “Although I don’t expect you to understand. None of you will. It’s not for you, even if you grow a liking to this garden."

 

“If the books aren’t meant for me… or any of the other heroes, then who are they for?”

 

Hemera glances at me - I can’t see her eyes, and she cannot tilt her head, but I know she’s looking at me. "Shouldn’t the answer be obvious?"

 

"…you?"

 

"Is that so surprising?"

 

"You… read?” I ask, even though the answer is clear. "Aren’t you a goddess?"

 

"And goddesses don’t need knowledge?"

 

There’s a breeze that flows through us, coming from who knows where, and there’s a cacophony of ruffled pages, giving the impression that the books are responding, as though insulted. 

 

"I am aware that where you come from, there are deities that are omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent. And although us denizens are a lot of things, we are not everything."

 

The great tree shifts just a fraction, but for a moment it feels like it’s breathing, alive in the way we think of animals rather than plants. 

 

"Sure, we are great. My sister is capable of drowning an entire planet, causing it to collapse into itself if she so wished. She can wink you out of existence and history with a stare, and leave you in various states of limbo that a thousand deaths would be kinder,” Hemera states. "I can allow even the coldest rocks floating in space to flourish with flora and fauna, and then raze them into the ground with the blinding wrath of the morning sun. And I can make prophesies like this-"

 

**BEWARE THE DAWN AND DESPERATE LIGHT**

**ALL THAT IS GOLD DOES NOT GLITTER IN THE NIGHT**

**RIGHTEOUS IS SHE WHO WIELDS THE POWER**

**AND DEFENDS ALL SHE HOLDS DEAR IN HER FINAL HOUR**

 

Again, not something I’m prepared for. I almost topple off - and for the first time I become truly aware of how high up and away from the safety net of the earth I am. But the tree catches me, wood growing to form support that I rest against.

 

“In the end, we are beings of flesh and blood, and even the myths we have a symbiotic relationship with aren’t be alls and end alls,” she continues. "We are the sun and the moon, day and night, the mother of monsters and the lion-faced demiurge. But we are not infallible.”

 

“No, you aren’t,” I say. “But something is."

 

Hemera chuckles, ever patient. “Sure. There are laws and systems that shape reality, but even then they can be circumvented. It’s all a matter of ‘want’ - the ‘how’ will present itself in due time. There is nothing you can’t work around if you truly want it. In the kingdoms’ game of chess, white is destined to lose, but that doesn’t mean that black cannot be denied a chance to win."

 

She moves now - no longer a statue encased in wood, but she breaks free from the mould, and I can see her in all her eminence. She controls the tree, I realise. It’s all from her.

 

"And that desire and determination can only come from us,” Hemera asserts. "From life, because that is how we give meaning to this universe, isn’t it? There is no meaning in life - life is the meaning. It is the message and the messenger. It’s only by being here, by being alive, that we can enact change, physically, mentally, actionable and observable. It is why you are here."

 

Unlike the other denizens, Hemera and Nyx have always been portrayed as ramrod straight. Sure, they’re all serpentine, but the sisters do not coil. But Hemera lowers her head - her pristine body made out of flesh instead of gold, and I come face to face with her, and I can see an inkling of her eyes. Distant, regal, but sure. Those are eyes that know what they want.

 

"Why are you here?” she asks. "What choices are you going to make?"

 

It seems like I’ve gotten my wisdom.

 

First, I step off the branch. The tree moves with me, wood catching my steps as I descend, walking down on steps that I’m confident will appear for me. I have all the time while walking down to think, and come to a decision once my feet feel the warmth of the earth, the life thriving amongst the dead. I take out my baritone saxophone, and bring it close to my lips.

 

“I would like to play for you.”

 

“Then play away, Haruka,” Hemera replies. It’s the first time she’s said my name, and it feels like an acknowledgement.

 

{♪} [Viva la Vida (Bariton Sax Cover by Christian Buggle) - Coldplay](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NYAc0a178d0) {♪}

 

My first notes are raspy, sonorous. I’ve never been an excellent player but I’ve held my own, hours upon hours of dedicated practice poured into my instrument because I’ve always wanted to be better. To give back to the band, to do my part, my best. If anyone told me that three years ago that I could play the way I’m playing now, I wouldn’t have believed it.

 

Yet here I am, even though every step of the way it seemed impossible. It isn’t anymore.

 

My serpents dance to my tune, as they have always. For the past few weeks, I haven’t played for myself - it’s always to control them, charm them, instructions embedded in feelings that I channel through my music, the way I command these snakes.

 

But now, I play for my pride, for Hemera, and they follow anyway.

 

The song takes its own shape, my deep, mellifluous voice giving life to music that is mine; an image of a dependable, strong warrior, their wide shoulders and sturdy back facing us as they weather whatever challenges ahead; an oncoming storm, a horde of invaders on horseback, a demigod beast taller than mountains.

 

I understand the weight of a choice, of what it means to be alive, and it’s not something I can put into words. But I can sing about them.

 

And with my instrument, sing I do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think my haruka chapters tend to be the longest.
> 
> more lands!! more denizens!! more life lessons!!
> 
> thank you for reading my story.


	61. Jazz Improv 3.7.3 (Nozomi)

Alchemy.

 

[♪] [Don’t Mess With The Pie Hos - Jim Dooley](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h7SJoJlEpJw) [♪]  


 

A fine line between science and art. There is a surprising amount of literature on the subject, funnelled through Asuka’s unsurprising ability to conjure up books upon books, my own sources, and intuition. Intuition guides me, a compass tugging my gut along that causes me to linger on a page longer than I should, serendipity bringing my finger to a line more important that the rest.

 

Sburb has history. It’s not a game played in isolation. Countless of other sessions have been played - and I can’t quite figure out by who. It’s a large and scary thought, and my mind doesn’t feel comfortable going there. But systems shouldn’t have much variation, yet there seem to be differences in the types of Sburb being played.

 

For example, alchemy normally consists of three different equipment - on top of the standard Alchemiter, there’s a Cruxtruder and Totem Lathe that seem essential in at least half the other sessions, and the absence of supposedly fundamental elements from our game leave me puzzled. Especially given that the Cruxtruder seems to be the key for entry conditions into the Incipisphere, of which… we just don’t have answers about. I have a feeling we’ll never find out why and how we entered this universe.

 

But this streamlines the process, making alchemy much simpler - although I’m sure the tediousness of three required equipment can be bypassed by some workaround that can be invented in like two hours. As such, we’re just experimenting, or at least I’m fiddling around, and it’s supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.

 

There’s a method to the madness. First of all, you need a base - the form your alchemised object will take. If it’s a weapon, what weapon will it be? A sword, mace, bow, rifle, whip - what? And then you start assigning properties. Physical properties - what material do you want it to be made of? And then other properties - do you want the object to have fire attributes? Ice or lightning? Expand, shrink, morph, whatever. The list goes on and on. 

 

And this is the tricky and amazing part of alchemy. You have to mix and match, because isolating a certain attribute from an object and putting in only that attribute can be tough… and also lead to unexpected results because you weren’t precise enough in telling the alchemiter how you wanted it done - just like coding, but a whole new language altogether. I can try to make an armour silver - because I want its high electrical conductivity so that I can literally direct lightning into it to generate electrical power. So I use a shirt as a base, and a silver magnifying glass - a heirloom from my grandfather. But then, on top of being silver, said armour is also transparent, and like a magnifying glass has a focal point right at its center, and under the sun, catches that energy and emits an almost burning kind of ray that can’t really be toggled on or off.

 

You get things like these which you have to tweak, or maybe you realise that it’s made said invention so much better, you know? Alchemy is like navigating a maze, sneaking through dark corridors and evading unsatisfactory results. There are a million entrances and exits and even more pathways, dead ends not exactly dead ends because there might be a treasure chest buried amidst the bushes, but then you open the chest and find only dead flowers, but said flowers could have excellent medicinal properties… it goes on and on. I love it. It’s a marvellous exercise in creativity and logical thinking, and more so than actually having said creations in my hand it’s the experience, the process of-

 

“Yo, Kaks. ”

 

The nickname is so obscure and yet such an obvious, unmistakeable bastardisation of my surname, that my ears are pried apart and my other senses enraptured. I look up, and Natsuki’s staring down at me, with a bemused smirk.

 

“Drowning yourself in work, eh?”

 

I try to read her eyebrows, and fail spectacularly because there’s just nothing in them. We have an odd friendship here, each statement loaded, a bait and switch or just nothing at all, redundant actions played for laughs or deadly serious signals, or a misstep in inflection in tone. It’s maddening. It’s just like deciphering a puzzle that doesn’t know how it wants to work. 

 

And in this case, a challenge, maybe? We’re so many levels deep in irony that I can’t parse them anymore. Natsuki can’t be bothered to keep track, so, the appropriate response to all of this would be...

 

“Alright,” I sigh, and then shouting to no one in particular. “Let's

 

[♪] [Take Five - Dave Brubeck](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vmDDOFXSgAs) [♪]

 

I cough once, twice, thumping my chest to clear my throat. Natsuki takes my instructions as an excuse to slack off. Which just leaves me with-

 

" Yo, Oumae. ”

 

Kumiko’s the only other person on the Land of Caverns and Oni. It’s rare to find her alone, but here she is, staring at some scribbles on a paper, no doubt brainstorming what she might come up with for alchemy.

 

“Nozomi-senpai,” she acknowledges, as I invite myself to sit next to her. 

 

“Working hard,” I say, stating the obvious. I hug my knees, legs crossed, rocking back and forth as I make a show to lean forward and gaze at Kumiko’s paper even though I already know what’s on it.

 

“Asuka would’ve scoffed at it,” she rolls her eyes, before swatting the paper aside. “I went to one of these… alchemy sessions before, when we’re not just fooling around. It wasn’t… the best time. Or even in the top twenty."

 

"You don’t like her very much, do you?” I tell her.

 

Kumiko hides her grin well. "Neither do you,” she points out. Sharp.'

 

"What I have is a great deal of professional respect for Asuka,” I say, straightening up as I recite my half-truth. Even my tone is half-mocking.

 

“Well, she’s my senpai, my section leader, a great talent and no doubt the most competent eighteen year old I’ve ever known,” Kumiko says, prattling each achievement off a list. “But that doesn’t stop her from being such an insufferable butthole around everyone she claims to care about."

 

“We both know that everything before ‘but’ is utter rubbish,” I nudge her.

 

She laughs - a genuine one at that - as we both giggle at the joke. Ribbing Asuka is always a pleasure, but I do feel bad at how much we just… don’t like her. Old habits kick in as I cough to get attention, and put a damper on our short lived fun.

 

“But,” I reply, emphasising the word in hopes of subverting my joke. “She is important, and much of what she does is invisible. I doubt things would be as smooth sailing now if not for her.”

 

“Huh.”

 

“You’ll have to take my word for it. And I do work well with her, so that’s a plus.”

 

“I’ll take your word,” Kumiko says. “Even though I don’t have to.”

 

“Yeah,” I nod, and the conversation goes back to being stale.

 

.

 

.

 

Awkward stale. Ack.

 

.

 

“Hey, you look like something’s weighing on you.”

 

I use the silence to my advantage, a half-baked segue into something that I could be useful at. Kumiko doesn’t perk up, but shows enough interest for me to continue.

 

“I mean, as a senpai, I should do what I can do help y’all, you know?” I say, and then going again my instincts to pat her on the back. Would not be wise. “You first years are a dear bunch and… yeah. If there’s anything…"

 

Kumiko eyes me, before blowing against a tuft of her fringe. “Well… isn’t it pretty obvious that Reina and I have had a falling out?”

 

I twiddle my thumbs to keep my mind going. “Yeah… but I don’t think it’s polite to mention it, yeah?”

 

“No, it wouldn’t,” Kumiko agrees. “Asuka would’ve cut right to the chase.”

 

“She would’ve,” I nod. I have a breath to compose my next sentence, and I use it, my words coming out on the exhale. “If it helps, I’m going through some problems of my own which might be… similar.”

 

“Huh,” Kumiko grunts, turning to face me now.

 

The attention makes me more self conscious but… I can only move forward now. Alright. Yeah. “It’s… Mizore. Which I’m sure has been as obvious as you and Kousaka-san.” Reina’s been the only first year I’ve never really gotten to know. Hmm.

 

“She… kinda told me things that she shouldn’t have. I listened to and now know things I shouldn’t have,” I continue, exasperated. “I have the answers I wanted but now… everything’s so complicated. And I’m no good with people, no matter what the third years might say about my way with words. I understand you also… confessed to Reina?”

 

Kumiko nods. “It was a verbal confirmation more than anything. The thirst was real, I tell you.”

 

The joke she cracks eases the tension up a bit. It’s nice to know that she too can hold her own in sculpting the flow of a conversation, whether conscious or not, and of course everything’s conscious for me.

 

“Where we differ is that… I believe that Reina does share the same affection for you. I really do, no matter what she might’ve said. But… I don’t feel the same way for Mizore. I just…”

 

[♪] [The Tower (Bonus Track) - Ramin Djawadi](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RX2y3ncQGR4) [♪]  


 

It helps that my voice is hoarse, so that when emotion leaves it vulnerable I can just blame it on my sore throat. Kumiko’s too astute for that kind of nonsense, though. “I can’t return her affections because… I just don’t feel that way about anyone. Mizore’s probably the most important person here to me, but she’ll always and only be just my best friend. And I’m worried that we can’t even be that anymore.”

 

She’s attentive. I’ve exchanged words with Kumiko a few times before but… I get it when the others say that she sees through you. She listens, and it feels like for the first time ever, someone understands, even if she remains distant to you.

 

“You know,” she starts, and there’s a kind of raw honesty, thoughtful innocence in the way she phrases things. “I’ve said some things I shouldn’t have said as well. I said things I wouldn’t have said… because what? I let some thoughts get to me, and well… the way you put things it seems like Mizore didn’t mean to say the things she did. But I did mean the awful things I said to Reina, even if they were technically true…”

 

"And because of that, I’m worried that she and I might not be able to remain friends,” she sighs. "One thing that’s always attracted me to Reina was how it felt like she understood me, the true me, behind the masks I don’t even know I’m putting up. I’m confused and scared and part of this whole ‘hero’s journey’ seems to be giving me answers and… I took those answers and ended up being a horrible person. Or maybe I’ve been horrible all along? Was that the answer?"

 

I want to hold her tight, hug her, because she’s such a sweet child, so brutally self-aware and honest and wanting to just be better… so I do. I allow ourselves this vulnerability and I reach over, as she leans into my shoulder. Kumiko doesn’t cry, but her breathing’s erratic as she sorts through her thoughts and feelings, and I allow myself to be her rock.

 

"Whatever problems you might have?” I tell her. "You’re not a horrible person, Kumiko.”

 

She doesn’t seem convinced, her eyes a blank stare ahead and I grit my teeth, determined to turn this around. "I mean, I’m sitting here right next to you and… most times things go wrong? It’s because of ignorance or malice. You’re definitely not stupid, and… no. No malice from you. And this is coming from someone who’s an over thinker, always on her guard.”

 

I bump my head lightly onto hers, a playful redistribution of weight. "My intuition is pretty good I must say."

 

She looks up at me, and manages a smile, even a wilting one. 

 

“Thanks,” she says. Her gratitude is a fuzzy patch of warmth in my chest.

 

"It’s my first time acting like a senpai,” I chuckle. "I hope I’m not doing a shitty job."

 

"You’re doing fine,” Kumiko assures me. "You haven’t failed us yet, yeah?”

 

Again, with that sensitivity and sensibility. Does she just find the right words, or..? I just can’t believe it’s taken so long for me to talk with this girl.

 

I should be mindful of our conversation though, so I steer my mind back on course. "Even if I haven’t really offered any solution to your predicament?"

 

"Ah. Well, there’s never a neat and tidy solution for things like this,” she yawns. "Feelings are messy. But even if talking to you wasn’t necessarily illuminating - and I think I might’ve learned a thing or two - it just helps. That’s what talking does. You get to air your problems with someone that isn’t you, and you get a fresh perspective."

 

“Yeah… you’re right."

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

"You know what.”

 

Kumiko straightens up, breaking the silence as we shift back into our original positions. My shoulder is a tad numb, but nothing that light stretching won’t fix. "I think I have a problem you can solve,” she says.

 

From her pocket, she produces an item no larger than a hand, carefully wrapped in cloth. She frowns for a second, before finally unveiling the item… a glass shard, jagged on the edges with a smooth surface, clear enough that the desert sun can perfectly see the patterns of the cloth holding it.

 

"It’s… my denizen,” Kumiko explains. "A part of her, that’s she given to me. I’m not sure how I might use it, and I know that you do love alchemy. So, if you would…"

 

"We’ll see what we can do with that,” I tell her, grinning as I crack my knuckles. “Fix up something for you.”

 

She hands the shard over to me, and I take care to not cut myself. It really is quite sharp, and Kumiko must’ve really handled it properly such that it didn’t draw blood from her. I can feel the cogs already turning in my mind, the machine racing to come up with a thousand permutations before narrowing them down. Finally, something concrete that I can do.

 

"Thanks, Nozomi.”

 

Kumiko has her hands behind her back, shy and reserved even in her peek of a smile framed by those lovely chestnut curls. There’s that teenage awkwardness but also earnestness, a thoughtful girl with so much care and love. She gives me a tiny wave as part of her appreciation, and I crack into a wide, silly grin for her.

 

"Don’t mention it, Kumiko."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a nice little chapter with some nice little interactions. 
> 
> i hope you like this chapter, and as always, thank you for reading my story.


	62. Jazz Improv 3.8.2 (Yuuko)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> double chapter today to make up for last week's loss. chapters should still be going up on thursday and saturday according to schedule. thanks!!

[♪] [Infernal - Maribeth Solomon and Brent Barkman](https://failbettergames.bandcamp.com/track/infernal) [♪]

 

“Go, go, go!”

 

The icy black smears itself wherever I look, charcoal stains lit up by the roar of battle. Kitsune cry out and wail as the four of us lead the charge, and I wonder if the great beast slumbering in the depths of the planet can remain in stasis.

 

A cascade of flame floods the ground, a torrent licking the sea of war. Mizore clears the path, carried by an oni who remains steadfast, unworried.

 

“Natsuki, up! One squad around the right. I’ll ward the left. Yuuko, you’re with Mizore upfront."

 

Nozomi hollers instructions as we face the nine-tailed beast - a hundred, maybe two hundred kitsune merging to form the creature straight out of mythology. Natsuki gives me a fey wink, before her pillars of blinding white carry her above, three more oni riding the wave of energy to spread out. Her own burly bodyguard stays by my side, a precaution of sorts. I catch my breathing, ribbon wrapped tight around my palm.

 

We have some Kitsune with us too, simulating the bare minimum conditions. During the actual battle, we’ll have all the help we can get, but it’ll do for now. They dart about, harassing their kin placed on the opposite side of the board, sparring with their imagination and wits. It’s like a game of jan-ken-pon, each constantly morphing into something that would outdo their opponent by virtue of existence. Oil to counter fire-breathing salamanders. Glass containers to entrap liquid. Baseball bats to smash said glass. The wheel turns and turns, the spokes never resting.

 

Up high, Natsuki rains hell on the nine-tails. There’s a confidence in her movements now, and she’s so sure now it’s almost scary. Nozomi needs thought to shape her light into swords, spears, chains, but Natsuki’s energy just flows. They do not take form but intent, with an intensity unprecedented for an apathetic girl like her. If I didn’t know better, I might’ve considered her fervour as a threat to mine-

 

“I know you hate me, but now would be the perfect time!” she yells, but her voice is one of playful banter. She’s enjoying herself, the brat. Nozomi would be shouting at us to focus right about now, but I can’t hear her.

 

It’s not like I’m not itching to take action. But all good things take time. My grip on my ribbon stiffens, nails digging into my palm, knuckles white hot with fury as they clench into a fist.

 

Soon.

 

Mizore bides her time as well, her oboe humming sorrowful notes that sculpt away the beast’s flames from us. She doesn’t seem too focused on anything, wistful and in her own world. I can see a facsimile of a gigantic hand erupting from Natsuki, as she works in tandem with her oni to hold down the beast.

 

A loud crash draws my eyes, my field of vision panning to the left, Nozomi’s preparations complete. Hard light forms a lattice in a way that conserves surface area, creative triangles forming some sort of restraint to further hamper the nine-tails. 

 

That’s my cue.

 

**_“Come!”_ **

 

Channeling my voice comes naturally, as I snag the nine-tails’ attention. And then it’s mine - and I can feel the hot coals behind my eyes, the defiant fury snagging the beast and drawing it in. A dare, a challenge, a trance. Now we are locked, it to me, and me to it.

 

This is Rage. Unlike most other aspects, Rage is not absolute, not in the way Doom bifurcates, or the way Time is inevitable, or the way the Light blinds. Rage is the force of will, of a focused singularity, of a spirit that will never waver not because it cannot but because it will not. I beckon my opponent and they will respond; I provoke my foe and they will attack. There is only it, and there is only me. This is all we can see. This is all we can feel.

 

There is nothing else.

 

With its tails pinned down by Nozomi and Natsuki, it lashes out in the only way it can - with its arms. A great claw comes thundering down, faster than I can keep track of.

 

Suntory - that’s their name, isn’t it? - parries, almost expanding in size as they take the blow, both arms holding the limb like Atlas shouldering the world. This buys me enough time to leap upwards, ribbon now extending into a fiery whip, as I begin my assault on the beast.

 

“Go get ‘em!”

 

My screams are one with the fire that blazes around me, weapon and soul and opponent all alight. The ribbon wraps around the nine-tails’ ear, the momentum lifting me as I swing upwards, and deal a single, cathartic blow to its eye. It shrieks as I swoop back down and then up, gravity and propulsion allowing me to reposition myself on the nape of the beast’s neck. But it only has eyes for me now, even as the others unload a barrage of attacks on it.

 

**_“Heel!”_ **

 

My ribbon extends and then sets a fixed length, all the way around the nine-tails’ neck like a makeshift pair of reins, allowing me to steer it, choke it. Tightening my grip, I slide down its back, gravity strangling it as it struggles with getting free of the ribbon, now almost a wire threatening to slice through it. Never mind my ability - this has its full attention.

 

And it brings us to our logical end. Faced with overwhelming pressure, unable to retaliate or move, the nine-tails crumples. It falls onto its knees, and then all fours, as I bring down all the weight I have, the rage connecting me to a single destination I have seared into the fabric of reality, as the mythical fox collapses onto its side, defeated. My feet sizzle as they touch the cold, hard ground, and I don’t let go until the beast dissipates, the swarm of kitsune dispersing.

 

“Excellent job, all of you,” Nozomi applauds, jogging to meet us as Natsuki descends. I can still feel the blood rushing from my forehead to my toes, wave after wave of red hot adrenaline washing over me like a baptism. “One more trial with the likeness simulated, and we’ll be more than prepared. That was some sterling aggression, Yuuko.”

 

I force a smile as I place my hands behind my back. They’re scarred, to be sure. Fingers bleeding with blisters, burnt from the ribbon and flame. I’ll have to call Kaori-senpai, see if she or Haruka can do something about it. 

 

Natsuki gives me a thump on the back that almost causes me to strike at her. Idiot. “Well, our missus is in her element, alright.”

 

“I’d love to stay for the after party,” Nozomi stretches out, knowing full well that there is never an after-party, even after successful runs like today’s. “But I have some place to be.”

 

Her voice tones down noticeably, like she’s making a conscious effort to be softer. Her shouting has taken a toll, and it’s deeper, raspier. "Catch you all later,” she almost whispers. And as I’ve said - great work.”

 

Mizore doesn’t offer a peep, already slinking off on her own. Natsuki’s never been acute to emotions so I was surprised to see her offering some space, chasing after Nozomi but I figured she just wanted to talk to her friend. Figures. Happy coincidence for me, then.

 

[♪] [Touch - Daughter](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pjUdwnPaL2Y) [♪]

 

“Can I talk to you a minute?” I ask, but my tone is harder today. I don’t frame it as a question, and Mizore can tell. She stops walking, waiting for me to catch up with her.

 

“I haven’t heard from Nozomi,” I start, digging my hands into my short’s pockets. They wounds still stick out, but I know Mizore’s not paying attention. “She said she’d see you and sort out… whatever. I don’t keep tabs on you via her, but I find it worrying that she hasn’t mentioned you. At all. What’s up?”

 

“She came over,” Mizore whispers, giving a nonchalant shrug. There’s an awkward silence after - she’s not giving up any more.

 

I sigh. “Hey. I want you to know that I care okay? And not for the well-being of this… ‘unit’ and how cohesive we are or whatever so that we’re high functioning enough to carry out what we carry out. I’m your friend, damn it, at least I hope I am. I want to know if-“

 

"She came over, I was drunk, I confessed."

 

That’s… blunt. Mizore’s never been… blunt.

 

"Confessed to..?” I ask, still processing her behaviour.

 

“Everything,” she waves off. "Anything of import, she knows. It’s embarrassing, really.”

 

Mizore quickens her pace, and I sense that I need to do something now, or I’ll never get the chance to, the urgency seizing me as I take her by the shoulders, turning her around-

 

“I was always hiding. And now everything’s out there, and I can finally see how silly I’ve been.”

 

She looks horrible. Her fringe is a mess - untrimmed, a puffy curtain concealing puffier eyes. Her irises are naturally a deep red, but even behind her hair you can guess how bloodshot they are, a cocktail of tearful, sleepless nights. Face to face, I can see how pale she is, her cheekbones pronounced where she used to have a chub of baby fat, and she’s a hollow shell of herself, shrinking in until there’s-

 

“Nothing. I’m left with nothing,” she continues prattling on, half-chuckling as snot dribbles from her nose. She quickly wipes it before turning her back to me. “Nozomi, Nozomi, Nozomi. That’s all I ever was, and now she knows it all. I’ve only ever had room for her and now…”

 

“You have me, don’t you?” I say, although at this point it should really be a question. I’m hardly uncertain, but now my words are spiralling out of my control into the void Mizore has constructed.

 

“Thanks, but no thanks,” she grins, but it’s a pitiful grin. Self deprecation without an ounce of humour. The smile is almost performed, and her arms are crossed, shoulders hitched to her ears, tension that’s never released. I should be able to break this, I’ve dealt with so many instances of this kind of drama before and-

 

“Don’t worry about me,” she assures me, and I’ve never felt more worried. “I’ll sort myself out. Somehow. I won’t let Natsuki and Nozomi down… whatever. Your concern is appreciated but… I just don’t have room for that anymore.”

 

“Erm,” I start, but that’s also where I end. I just can’t move forward.

 

She begins walking away now, and I don’t know how to follow.

 

“Now I know why adults are so wasted half the time,” she says, more to herself than anyone else. "How do you even deal, huh?"

 

“Erm."

 

"Hey, maybe drop by sometime,” she waves, as her silhouette melts into the darkness. "I’ll mix something for ya."

 

“Erm,” I say, for the final time.

 

"Well, that went well.”

 

She’s just popping up every here and there like a genie these days, but Natsuki’s mischievous antics still leave me unfazed. Her hands are on her hips like Absolutely Nothing Is Wrong, because of course absolutely nothing is wrong.

 

“She’s lost it,” I whisper, a mantra to myself, whatever mental gymnastics and cognitive dissonance acrobatics I need to pirouette my fucking mind into, to reach a coherent state to explain what just happened. “That’s not the Mizore I know.”

 

“People change yo,” Natsuki shrugs. “Ugly things can happen if you let the bleak parts of this world get to you, I guess. Maybe I should go and help-“

 

“No.”

 

I literally put my foot down on this. “You are not permitted to visit Mizore under any circumstances. It is the last literal thing you will do.”

 

Natsuki’s expression softens, and she grabs my wrist, tugging me in for a hug. I don’t respond, and she sighs into my ear, before hugging me anywhere while I continue standing rooted to the spot. The one time I really needed to not budge, to stand strong for my friend, and I failed. My stubborn petrification seems to be some sort of ironic remedy.

 

“Hey, it’ll be alright, yeah?”

 

I don’t feel it. Mizore’s nihilism is almost infectious. A black hole of fury, thoughts getting sucked into thoughts, anger at myself, at her, at everything and anything and-

 

“Hey.”

 

Natsuki’s fingers find the curve at my waist, another fist running through my hair like a massage and she really pulls me in, this time, such that I can taste the sweat on her shirt. Smell the limestone and granite and all the earthy elements she spends time with. It’s disgusting.

 

Heh. She’s so disgusting.

 

I find myself buckling, just so tired. Slowly but surely, I let my weight into her. She doesn’t budge, strong enough to hold me up even as I fall apart. 

 

"I’m out of touch, I guess,” she tells me, her voice now a muted whisper, so like yet unlike her. I remember the days where she’d stare out the rainy window as I pass by the bass sectionals, Asuka already given up, Riko nudging her to participate, and she’d be so quiet. But it’s a different kind of quiet now. Her voice is gentle as it cradles my head, defeated. “Things have been really looking up for me, even though that’s not the case for most of you? And you’re all putting in the work, and I might seem silly cheerful, which I guess can be crappy annoying, huh?”

 

It’s warm. She’s warm. My eyes feel warm, and I fight back the tears. Silly girl, if you cry on Natsuki’s shoulder she’s never going to let you live this down, ever.

 

"But I’m optimistic about our future, okay?” she tells me, and her words are a lullaby. "Someone’s gotta be, and I’ll carry that for you, okay? I’ve never been good at solving problems. You and Nozomi can go and do that. But I’ll support you, I’ll support the rest."

 

Her hand around my waist finds its way to my fingers, my worn, bloodied, burnt fingers, and they trace it. She doesn't judge, doesn't ask, doesn't apply pressure to provoke me or anything. She calms my injuries, acknowledges them and tells me that it's okay. That I don't have to hide, that I don't have to shoulder the burden. That we can do it together.

 

She doesn’t let go. And I don’t remember how long we remained like that, just standing, almost asleep, touching. I’ve never touched someone for so long, been held for so long. It’s so weird, and even weirder how patient she is. Natsuki’s not a patient girl, and neither am I.

 

But she’s here. One of my dearest friends is falling apart and I just can’t seem to do anything to help. Every day is a ticking clock, a countdown towards a confrontation larger than life, the tenuous web of relationships of twelve lost girls and two kingdoms and everything in between threatening to snap at any moment. I feel like I can’t keep up with balancing everything, dealing with others, dealing with myself. My fire, my determination, my rage.

 

But she’s here.

 

That makes it better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more girls and more being together.
> 
> chapter 62 before any visible natsuuko?? whaaat??
> 
> anyway, thank you for reading my story. i hope you'll stay on for the rest to come.


	63. Jazz Improv 3.2.3 (Midori)

Dear Diary,

 

Today was a bundle of mess. A lovable, bunched up string of events that ended on a sweet note.

 

Morning was a rotating door of first years - a jog with Hazuki so that I can up my stamina, a lesson with Kumiko, keeping up to date with Reina. And then there were some terrible miscomms that led to well… ahh I don’t wanna talk about it! All the silly teenage drama that I can’t seem to get a handle on, and to think I had to juggle with three awkward relationships! Bottomline - after an expert balancing act, zipping about and feeling like the only semi-competent person around… I managed to come out alive. I sure as heck didn’t solve anything, but I guess that’s not for me to deal with huh?

 

And I even managed to sneak in a final alchemy break! To think experimenting would count as rest - but it does, when I’m trying out unconventional flavour combinations for cheesecake. Honestly, strawberry and chicken gravy really hit some delightful spots on my palette. 

 

As for my night… Aoi’s a darling. I think that my fingers have never been so exhausted yet so satisfied.

 

* * *

 

[♪] [Kataware Doki (Theishter Piano Cover) - Radwimps](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l4O9lB0A9ns) [♪]

 

“My grandmother taught me when I was very little,” Aoi tells me, humming as her needles choreograph a tapestry of colour, her deft fingers moving like a practiced saxophonist’s. “Cloth comes naturally to us.”

 

I struggle with even gripping them, like leaden twigs or oversized chopsticks. My left hand trips, the needle stumbling as it drives its weight into my right index finger. It’s not too sharp but the pressure breaks the skin, a tiny ruby coming to the surface. I stifle any shouts, but a small squeak catches Aoi’s attention.

 

“Prick,” I mutter.

 

“You’ll be fine, just be more aware, alright?” she cautions.

 

“It’s so tough!” I sigh, sucking on the injury. “I’ve never had to knit before.”

 

Aoi’s grin feels like a hearty chuckle. “Well, Miss Princess in a Castle, that’s why you’re learning now.”

 

I ball up my tiny fist, punching with the needle into the air. “Time to become a domestic goddess!”

 

“Hold your horses,” Aoi quips. “Learn how to handle the reins first."

 

The fireplace sizzles as I try to find warmth and familiarity in each basic action, my hands attempting to map muscle to memory, trying to find patterns to latch onto. Under, over, through, brace, wait- that’s not right, er… first there’s the casting on, which I already did, and I’m trying to do a garter knot, right? So…

 

I can’t remember. It’s like the actions are slipping away, my palms getting colder even indoors. My mind’s foggy, panic seeping in. I should be able to do this, I don’t want to be useless. Aoi’s been so patient, teaching me, I can’t disappoint her now. I don’t…

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

Aoi cups her hands in mine, my sorry excuse of a quarter scarf drooping like tangled ramen. She sets the yarn aside, and lets her forehead rest against mine.

 

“Hey, it’s fine,” she assures me. “Not everyone has a knack for it, yeah? Maybe you just need a break, something-“

 

I start to pull away, shaking my head, but Aoi holds me firmly, her hands on my cheeks, setting me in place. She casts a stern expression, the one older siblings give to remind you that they’re the one in charge - the kind I give Kohaku when she’s being a bratty little sister. It’s weird to think of Aoi as a sister, huh?

 

“I’m just… frustrated,” I sigh, arms falling to my side in defeat. “Space players are seen as a… maternal figure of sorts, you know? And I’m just a… girl, I’m definitely not the motherly type. Not like Haruka or Kaori or even you. I really wanted to learn knitting because that’s like… a motherly thing to do yeah? And I don’t wanna be so bad at it-“

 

“Shh… shh…”

 

Aoi hushes me, the palms covering my cheeks lowering towards my chin, her thumbs skirting the edge of my lips but never really touching. “Forget about all that nonsense. Aspects and classes and roles. Throw that all out." 

 

Her fingers move towards my ears, and then my hair. They run through my wispy locks, massaging my curls, and I find myself relaxing into her, the tension in my neck and shoulders melting at her touch. Her thumbs rub against my temples, and there’s a jolt that runs down towards my toes. 

 

“You’ve never grown out your hair, huh?”

 

I take my time to shake my head. I don’t want to disturb whatever she’s doing.

 

“Then I take it you don’t know how to tie a braid?”

 

My reply this time is a soft moan, the kind you make when you don’t want to wake up.

 

Her hands move towards my crown, fingers rolling down my nape, and ending with a firm grip on my shoulders. I let myself come to, Aoi greeting me with a smile.

 

"We can start slow,” she says, holding my hand. "Come, I’ll show you.”

 

She takes off the bands securing both braids, and her hair unfurls like water flowing down a basin. Sitting facing me, Aoi bunches up her right side, and places them in my hands.

 

“I’ve been wearing braids for as long as I could remember,” she tells me, her fingers guiding mine in unhurried steps. “Before I worked with string, I worked with my hair, and I always found weaving to be therapeutic, you know?”

 

The braids form, three cords overlapping one another, and then she lets go, the pattern dissipating, as she repeats the actions to me. “For me, it’s the one thing that oddly enough, I find to be less mechanical and more… expressive. You’ve been a musician for a long time, right? This is just another way of creating.”

 

“See, these cords? They converge and take shape.”

 

Once again, we begin, three becoming one, the alternating stream blending into one another.

 

“They twist-“

 

She leads, my hands getting used to the rhythm.

 

“They tangle-“

 

With each word, another knot.

 

“Unravel-“

 

She lets go, and then I do. A single river of glossy black.

 

“And then, they connect again.”

 

The third time now, her hand almost ghosting mine. I imitate her previous actions, while she gives me nudges in the right direction. My attempt is clumsy, but it works, and she hands me her band.

 

“When you’re done, we seal it. A full-stop to a sentence.”

 

It looks lopsided on her, but… there it is. A braid.

 

“Oh wow,” I mutter to myself. “I did it.”

 

“You did,” Aoi grins. “I thought it might’ve been too abstract for you… my explanation. But that’s how I think of it, yeah?”

 

I nod, and feel my contented expression turn into one of horror when Aoi undoes the braid I so painstakingly did. Okay well, it didn’t take that many attempts but it was tough!

 

"Practice makes perfect,” she lectures. "And then you’ll enjoy it much more. When we get back home, you’ll be able to do it for your sister.”

 

Kohaku. The thought of being a big sister again spurns me on, and I feel determined to see this through.

 

“Come,” she invites, sitting with her back facing me. "Try again."

 

* * *

 

Dear Diary,

 

Today was… an experience. I had a dream - an actual dream, a terrible dream. Visions of fire and smoke, of black and white with no middle ground. With the moon falling from the sky, plunging the world into the final days of winter. I don’t really know how to describe it, it was all so abstract and these are the only words I know to talk about them. Language is a barrier without ladders to climb over.

 

Aoi noticed how fidgety I was… and I told her. Or at least I told her my feelings, that much I could articulate. Scared, helpless, clueless. There is little doubt that it was a vision from Skaia, the burdens of a Space player shown in an exclamation mark. I worried about the warning… I still do, even when there’s little I can do. But I wonder, wonder if I’m not thinking hard enough, working hard enough.

 

And so Aoi sat me down. And she thought me how to breathe. How to empty out the light and bring it back in. And… it helped? It made things better. I have perspective, I have patience, I have a partner’s support. And you know what?

 

I don’t know what love is, not yet. But this is the closest I’ve ever felt to it.

 

* * *

 

A circle. Doesn't have to be a perfect circle, but the idea of one. Imagine a circle of light-

 

_Any colour?_

 

Up to you. Mine is as transparent as it can be, which is white I guess, although I don't think of white. 

 

_Green, then._

 

Whatever's comforting and familiar to you. Imagine that circle, and concentrate until it's a point. A stressful speck. Focus that light until it's a dot on your forehead.

 

_Can the light change_ colour _?_

 

It- ... it's up to you.

 

_Red._

 

I'm not sure... hmm never mind. We'll just go with whatever works for you. So this red light, squeeze it until it can't get any tighter. And then slowly but surely, pull it out of your forehead.

 

_Out? How..?_

 

Imagine that the circle is just the tip of a rod... imagine a beam of light as a literal beam, with a start and an end. It's up to you how long you want this beam to be.

 

_Can my beam change_ colour _as I pull it out?_

 

I... whatever works. It's your interpretation.

 

_Okie. Then..._

 

Pull it out, your solid beam of-

 

_Rainbow. It's fluctuating, cascading, universal._

 

Yes. Pull it out, feeling the focus leave you, dialing down the intensity, the light moving with your breath, through space, through time. Until it's all out.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Are you done?

 

_... yeah._

 

Then now, you're ready.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

[♪] [Here Comes a Thought (Rush Garcia) - aivi & surasshu](https://soundcloud.com/rush-garcia-297954716/here-comes-a-thought-orchestrated) [♪]

 

A circle. Revolve. Turn. It continues on and on, the beginning to the end, back to the beginning and then the end.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

A circle. The endless and the infinite, the boundaries of the boundless. It frames your world, your senses. Let it return. Let it come back to the start. Let it run - jog, saunter, sprint, amble along.

 

Let your reality walk with you.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Can you hear it? The winds through the yawning mountains, the waves lapping over a flickering candle. The elements, the seasons, the-

 

_Stardust floating through the noiseless cosmos?_

 

Yes... the silence that covers existence within and without. 

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Can you hear it? The music of the body, the being that rushes in to fill the emptiness, the awareness of life and the fragility thereof? Your chest retreating like the curl of your fingers, blood pounding the mind, the way muscles twitch involuntarily over bone? The creak of your spine correcting your upright posture, the pressure of your bum against the chair, the sigh of your calves in relief. Can you hear it?

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Is that all you can hear?

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Maybe. But that's not all you can smell, right? Maybe that's not all you can taste? Amidst the burning bitter iron there is the salt of ambition's envy; between the musk of sweat building on your lips there is the dull decay of inertia.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

You're not alone, aren't you? You're never alone. The vessel yearns for fulfillment, the vessel aches for balance. You push and you drain, but it's never enough. There will always be something else.

 

We will invite in that something else. Choose the guests that seek to roam your halls.

 

We want something gentle, unassuming, light. A glimmer to usher in, and gently lead out.

 

Here comes a butterfly.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Choose your colours, your shapes, your details, but keep them plain and simple. The wings - what sound do they make? When they perch on the arc of your left ear, what do you hear? Their whisperings and sussurations - are they frantic ramblings, earnest stutters, or indecipherable mutterings?

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

The butterfly hovers at your eye level, its presence nagging at you despite the frail, temporal beauty it might seem to hold. We romanticise these feelings - don’t, but don’t demonise them either. Acknowledge the insect for what it is - a life shaped in the fold of your palm, nothing more and nothing less. What a treacherous insult to believe it as anything else.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

You can hear it, can’t you? The butterfly’s voice. Its words carefully curated as it speaks to you, truths and falsehoods and distortions of reality. It can’t be helped, but you can hear, can’t you? You can tell that the voice is filtered through you, your ears, your mind. You reshape its meaning through the action of existing, of understanding. You hear the butterfly’s song, cradle it in your cupped hands, your hands forming a dome as it closes. The spaces between your fingers give the tiny creature room to breathe, and now, you feel. The way six legs dance on a palm. Now, you smell - the coming of winter from the underside of a leaf. Now, you taste - dulcet nectar that stings with a plucky bite.

 

Now, you see - the light, that light once again, but this time it's not concentrated, not whole, not overwhelming. The butterfly is a fragment of your light. You can see it, the way the shadows intermingle with the glow, within your hands closed in prayer, and now, you know.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

You know now, don’t you?

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

 

Take your time. It’s just a butterfly.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Do you need more time? Just a bit more, then.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

And there we go.

 

Your palms begin to part, your senses relieved of even that tiny weight, as the butterfly leaves. You release it, back to where it came from.

 

The circle is complete.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Welcome back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at this point in time, like right this second? midaoi might just be my favourite ship.
> 
> comments are always appreciated. thank you for reading my story.


	64. Jazz Improv 3.4.4 (Reina)

[♪] [Vanishing Point - Darren Korb](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y_VI61pZczo) [♪]

  
Night.  
  
You don’t wake up on Derse. You sleepwalk through a lavish, exorbitant dream of satin, floating amongst the mysterious mauve highlights.  
  
Ever since the explosion, things have been tense. No one’s taken credit, but it’s rather obvious who did it, although that seems to be less obvious to the populace. They still keep their usual distance from us, but there’s no outward hostility, so it’s all fine.  
  
I come here to escape the droll of dawn, away from blinding personalities and the reminder that I’m never truly alone. But it’s never that simple, is it? Within minutes of strolling idly around the city, I spot two familiar figures in the distance, none of them Kumiko, in their iconic purple gowns. One of them recognises me, and waves me over. I sigh, and resign myself. Just a few minutes, then.  
  
Weaving through the crowd, I reach the seniors in a matter of seconds. There’s Natsuki, who’s already started chatting, and-  
  
“Aoi-senpai,” I greet. "I thought I’d never see you on Derse again.”  
  
She has a tight, thin-lipped smile. "Asuka gave me the means.”  
  
“Show her!” Natsuki urges Aoi, eager for all the wrong reasons. Aoi’s brows crease as she reaches into the front pocket of her Dersite gown - do we even have pockets? - and palms a triangular device with a humming, glowing circle at its core.  
  
“A mobile transportalizer, from my planet to Derse’s moon,” Aoi explains. "It’s programmed such that the moment I take any sort of damage, or my vitals react or whatever, I would be transported back to my house, so I don’t die again.”  
  
“Asuka’s been thorough,” I note.  
  
Natsuki nods, exaggerated. “She even offered to escort her whenever Aoi would be here but well… she declined for… obvious reasons."  
  
Aoi’s forced smile is just screaming for help, so I shift the topic away as a small mercy. “You two are getting along well, it seems.”  
  
Before Aoi can even stifle her chuckle, Natsuki gives her a humongous pat on the back, and the tiny girl’s frame shakes as though she’d just been in an earthquake. I extend two fingers to stabilise her.  
  
“It’s been great getting to know Aoi! We have quite a bit in common, especially since the Mage’s Orchestration back then. Nothing bonds you like being burdens against the Black Queen, huh?”  
  
“Is that what they’re calling that event?” I muse.  
  
“The name fits, whoever came up with it,” Aoi replies, before placing her hand on Natsuki’s shoulder and talking to her. “And you held your ground better back then, and you’ll hold yourself better now. When it comes to whatever war we’re fighting, I remain inept as always.”  
  
Natsuki flashes a look of concern, before taking Aoi’s hand in hers, her other gesturing for us to walk.  
  
“Well… abilities aren’t the be all and end all,” she sighs. "It was pretty frustrating back when I didn’t have control over my powers and couldn’t do anything.”  
  
“Kumiko’s way better at the empathy thing you’re trying out,” Aoi teases, her other hand holding Natsuki’s arm as she leans into her. “Sburb starts bleeding into everything we do. Is she a natural at matching others’ moods, or is that a consequence of her Heart abilities? Or are these things one and the same?”  
  
“The answer as always, is complicated,” Natsuki laughs. “Just like how you like to make things. I’m always confused.”  
  
Aoi rolls her eyes. “Well, all that complicated thinking and you’re still leagues ahead of me.”  
  
“Don’t say that,” Natsuki says. “You have a lovely planet.”  
  
“Are you kidding me?” Aoi raises her voice, or at least what can be considered raising her voice for her. “I’d kill for yours.”  
  
“Remind me to invite you over someday,” Natsuki grins. “Or you could just come over. Whenever. You don’t have to kill for anything.”  
  
“I take that back,” Aoi replies. “No killing.”  
  
“Nope,” Natsuki agrees. “But if you’re still having problems with abilities…” she trails off, because she remembers that she can’t introduce her methods of becoming stronger. “Oh..! The first years have had a mentoring system, which helps.”  
  
Aoi nods. “I remember Midori telling me about how she coached Kumiko. Sweet of them, really."  
  
“Yeah!” Natsuki says. "I’m sure Reina could give you a few tips, since she’s coaching Hazuki, right?"  
  
Oh, now they’re trying to fit me into the conversation.  
  
“It’ll come to her eventually,” I shrug. “She just needs to know what ‘Time’ means to her.”  
  
Aoi laughs, but it’s not a pleasant one. “Well, that’s what Midori told me as well. We thought that she could help the best, given that we both are bearers of the cardinal aspects. Alas, time threatens to be more abstract than space.”  
  
“Time is confusing,” she says, but she’s facing Natsuki, not me. “I haven’t a clue."  
  
“Well, that’s fine,” Natsuki shrugs, before something captures her attention. “Hey, I just remembered I need to run a quick errand for Nozomi and we’re in the vicinity. I’ll be just a minute, yeah?”  
  
And then. It’s just Aoi and I.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
Well.  
  
“You seem to be getting along with Nakagawa-senpai,” I notice, curt. Neither of us are for small talk, but I want to at least seem like I’m putting on an effort. Or maybe not.  
  
“Mm,” Aoi replies. “She’s a good girl.”  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
Yeah, maybe I prefer the silence.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
“Reina-"  
  
"Let’s not.”  
  
I don’t know why I lashed out like that. Was it her tone? Was it because she’s Aoi and when you try to think of what she could possibly talk about with me, what we have in common, there’s only one thing that I just absolutely do not what to bring up right now?  
  
Yeah, that last one.  
  
“I’m… it’s not Kumiko,” she says. “If you’re still up for listening, then well-“  
  
I don’t interrupt her or stop her. She takes that as consent to continue.

  
[♪] [Green and Gold - Lianne La Havas](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W1plQCMNQ4M) [♪]

  
“You know, it was a half truth, what I said back there,” she says. “Time is abstract and confusing, but it’s not like I don’t have a clue. It’s just that much harder to get anything from it.”  
  
She rubs her hands together like it’s cold, probably a habit from her planet. “You know this?” she tugs at her Dersite gown. “I made it myself. Stitched it up, because it’d just be so odd to wear normal clothes here, yeah? I don’t want to stand out any more than I already do.”  
  
“I never really stood out,” she continues. “Each child has their own quirks and weaknesses, some strengths - like how sewing’s mine. I was good at studying, but I always kept my head down. Quiet, small, unassuming. I remember my childhood just thinking of what it would be like when I would be older, how things would change. And now here I am, noticing that nothing’s really different, that I’m still me, that I don’t feel older in the same way you don’t really notice your hair growing until it’s long. I can see that it’s long, I can tell that I’m eighteen. But it doesn’t feel that way. The girl in the mirror is still me."  
  
“You know I used to like winter as a kid?” Aoi rambles on. “I think I still liked it even before getting here. But somehow, I despise my land. Even as I get used to it, I’m just tired of it. And that feels like growing up. Losing the wonder in everything, realising that magic isn’t real, that there’s an abundance of mediocrity and normality and that you’re just bound to live a life as another. That’s maturity, one I’ve almost resigned to. When I project myself ten years, twenty, fifty down the road, who will I be? Not much different from today perhaps. But also, very different. Am I making sense?”  
  
She pauses for a while, and the silence stretches as she gathers her thoughts. It’s a beautiful silence.  
  
“It’s a paradox. Everything changes, yet everything stays. I’m still Aoi. I will still be Aoi no matter what.”  
  
“And I used to think like that, until we came here. Suddenly, it’s not a normal life anymore. This is not a normal life. I don’t have to worry about band anymore, or college entrance exams, or if I might ever get a job or if I’m selling my life away if I become an accountant. Should be the dream right? Except it’s not. I find myself missing the real world. The normal world. I’m tired of this.”  
  
I’m getting real tired of her tirade. This is why she’s getting nowhere with her abilities - she’s spiralling in her own prison of thoughts, circling about and about in mediocrity and doubt. She can stay there for all I care, but I don’t want to be dragged into it. It’s pathetic, really. Almost sad.  
  
“And then, I died.”  
  
She lets out a sound, like a pained laugh, before her body shakes in a kind of mercy chuckle. “That brush with death… it changed everything. I existed, and then I didn’t, and then I did again. Like heck, I died here! Being back here is surreal, almost more so than coming into the Medium for the first time. This feels like the underworld I’m visiting. It was Derse where I saw life unfold, where the six year old in the mirror saw herself not getting past eighteen, the vast void beyond that. That was terrifying. That was humbling. The fact that we can disappear, and that’s it for us. That’s it. But everything still continues on.”  
  
“That thought of nothing’s been framing many things,” Aoi says. “When I died, it didn’t fade to black. There was no colour - it was just nothing. But yet, there’s never just nothing, right? Another paradox. Life, death, the beginning, the end, everything. I don’t know, but I guess that’s how I view time. Yeah. That’s time to me.”  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
“You… you’ve got anything for me?” she asks.  
  
I return with a question. “Why are you telling me this?”  
  
Her grandmother story’s finished. I really, don’t want to hear more of it.  
  
“Well, because I don’t know, we were talking about aspects and abilities? I thought maybe you could help,” she shrugs. “It’s alright if you don’t want to, but at least I wanted to talk about my experiences too? And how all this on Derse is just so weird-“  
  
“Aoi,” I start, and even if I regret whatever comes after, I’ve started and I won’t stop. “I honestly don’t care.”  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
"You were there,” she whispers, quiet. “You were there when I was useless. You were there when I died. I just want to get better-"  
  
"And I saw someone way out of her depth,” I reply. "You have my sympathy, but nothing more.”  
  
“You…” she starts, and then stops. I can see the words churning in Aoi’s mind, the way she chooses what to say next. “ _Whatever did Kumiko see in you?_ "  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
“Hey I’m back!” Natsuki shouts as she returns, oblivious to the tension. “Where shall we head to-"  
  
"She was just leaving,” Aoi says, staring at the ground.  
  
Natsuki turns to face me, confused. "You were?"  
  
I don’t respond, but enough of my body language suggests that I don’t want to be here anymore. That Aoi doesn’t want me to be here. Natsuki’s slow, but she catches on in the end.  
  
"Where to?” she asks, trying to keep things cordial enough.  
  
"I don’t know."  
  
“Wherever that’s far away from Kumiko,” Aoi adds. “Because you don’t deserve her.”  
  
I can feel the gust building in my lungs, the air swirling around my fist. I-  
  
“Woah, woah, woah!” Natsuki intervenes. “Alright, time out. Aoi, wait for me, yeah? I’ll settle this."  
  
Aoi takes a few paces back, turning away from us.  
  
“Hey,” Natsuki shuffles closer, and I keep my distance. She puts up her hands in surrender, before putting them behind her back.  
  
“You know i’m supposed to be on Kumiko’s side for this, but there are always two sides to every story, and you’d do good with letting out some steam,” she adds. “At the end of the day, it’s just us who’ll have each others’ backs, so just… relax, yeah? I’ve got just the place for you."  
  
She gives me a pat on the shoulder, as she steers me away from Aoi. "I’ve never been there myself - I doubt the Dersites would welcome any of us. But you can give it a shot. You’re such an enigmatic charmer, you’d fit right in."  
  
"It’s a club on the sixth ring,” Natsuki continues, pointing me in the right direction, as though I didn’t already know. “Pretty obvious if you ask me, once I give you the name. Ace of Clubs."  
  
Of course. Everything has to be a god damn pun.  
  
“I guess I know where I’ll be going,” I say, waving them off. It’s really not like I have anything better to do.  
  
“See you then,” Natsuki replies, but I’m already far ahead.  
  
I don’t have time for those I have to leave behind.  
  
 _There’s only me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aoi’s translocator looks exactly the same as sombra’s. glad we have that detail out of the way.
> 
> this is one of those chapters where… you need to get something done, and it’s done. part of soundscape is just the discipline of… updating, and doing the work, even if you’re not necessarily proud of it. i might rewrite this chapter one day, but that day is not today.
> 
> also, i’ll be away till next thursday, so in lieu of that there’s a double update today. no chapter next tuesday, we’ll update again on thursday.
> 
> as always, comments (especially ones for improvement) are appreciated. thank you for your immense patience, and for reading my story.


	65. Jazz Improv 3.4.5 (Reina)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen to the <♪> till it's finished before moving on.

[♪] [Spider Swing - Zafire Dragoon](https://soundcloud.com/zafire-dragoon/spider-swing) [♪]

 

Like a figure floating out of the mist, the dreamy notes of electronic music make their entrance, just as I walk through the cramped door. There’s a familiar, throaty brass serving as a soulful undercurrent, making the atmosphere acceptable to my ears.

 

I head for the counter, taking my seat. All eyes are on me, and I’m not sure what lies behind them, but it doesn’t matter. All eyes are on _me_.

 

“One tequila on the rocks,” I order, gesturing to the bartender - styled in a fitting white tank and red bowtie. What legal age limit?

 

Dersites are a proud people, more so than their ivory counterparts. Blow up their capital, waltz into their club, and they won’t flinch a muscle, even if their feelings linger in the black. I get some leers from across the bar, but the attention starts to fade, and business continues, just as usual.

 

The vocals kick in, the lead braiding her words with the piano in a lyrical, alluring fashion, her backup ensemble in stark, jittery contrast. 

 

“Prince?”

 

The voice is fresh, commanding, but I don’t respond. My drink arrives and I take a sip, not even glancing to acknowledge him.

 

“Truly a sovereign at heart,” the Dersite chuckles, leaning into the counter, appearing in my peripheral vision. "How would I have the lady’s attention?”

 

“I preferred it when you called me by my rightful title,” I comment, finishing the glass and calling for another.

 

“Not princess?”

 

As if all girls ever want is a dainty tiara and a fancy dress, that the default would never apply. A draft blows in my direction to make a point.

 

“ _Prince._ "

 

His laugh is a hearty guffaw. “Of course. From Latin princeps, princip \- ‘first, chief, sovereign’; from primus ‘first’ and capere ‘take’.

 

“You know your words and extinct languages. So?”

 

The beat drops, violet lights cycling into other eclectic colours, going wild and flashing in dizzying, haphazard patterns. The lead singer’s rapid-fire intensity does grab my attention, and I find myself turning to watch her - only to come face to face with him.

 

“So I grasp the elements that represent _you_.”

 

His emphasis on the final word jolts my senses. This is a dangerously charismatic carapacian, and I’m not about to be outdone.

 

“You’re ruining the performance.”

 

“I could say ‘how careless of me’ and step aside, dance the dance, but this farce disinterests me,” he says. “Shall we get to it?”

 

An invitation, a ceasefire. He calls out the game and is willing to cast the pieces aside, or just flip the entire table. Do I relent?

 

I sigh, and give him a curt nod, before turning back as the chorus dwindles. My drink has returned, and he orders his own, taking a seat by my side.

 

The double bass plucks away a soothing backdrop as I appraise him for the first time. Well tailored shirt just a few shades lighter than his skin. He has a matching flat cap  - who wears headgear indoors? - and silver on his fingers. Attractive, lean build, each movement of his having a kind of zesty energy in them.

 

“So what do you want?” I ask, hammering another half glass down my throat.

 

“The same thing you do,” he says, raising his glass to me before taking a sip. “A good time.”

 

I raise my eyebrows. “Really."

 

“Is there anything wrong with wanting to enjoy myself in the company of someone ambitious with good taste?” 

 

"You hardly know me,” I reply.

 

"That’s why I’m here,” he grins.

 

I give up trying to figure him out. “As long as you know your boundaries,” I sigh, making my excuse. "I’m taken, so don’t go having any ideas."

 

"Yet here you are, drinking all on your own,” he observes. "Trouble in paradise?"

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

"Whatever it is,” he continues, ignoring my damning silence. “You won’t have to worry. Relax!” 

 

He taps me on the shoulder, gesturing to the performance. "You’re a musician too, aren’t you? What do you think about the band?”

 

You’d think that with the glitz and glamour of song and dance, the instrumentalists would be tucked away in the background. Except they are superstars of their own, dominating the stage as much as their counterparts. The DJ, the pianist, the strings - all of them bring their unique flavours to the banquet of music, the show just as much theirs.

 

But of course, it’s the brass players that catch my eye. The trumpet is short, stocky and built like a square, a real hard-boiled get up with the fedora and overcoat. Good technique, strong lungs, but nothing I can’t surpass in a few years. The only thing I might lack is the experience of an old soul, but all things are due in good time.

 

In contrast, the trombone is lanky, but not in a sleazy way. Just the opposite. Behind the horn-rimmed glasses, are a contemplative pair of eyes, unassuming enough but if you look hard enough, you can tell that they see everything.

 

He catches me looking - there’s a certain light in his eyes, not the sparkling kind but one that says ‘I see you’, like there’s a connection and suddenly I’m six again, watching from behind potted plants and sliding doors, curious and fascinated at this humble stranger, a boy, a young man, sitting opposite my parents, navy case right next to him. It’s Taki-sensei, Taki-sensei as a teenager, Taki-sensei in his younger days. The Taki-sensei I fell in love with.

 

I miss him so much now.

 

"Someone of interest?” my companion asks, watching me. "I thought you weren’t looking?"

 

"I’m not,” I lie, downing another glass. I haven’t been counting.  

 

The final chorus reaches its fever crescendo, instruments whistling and screaming, the lead channeling every flapper stereotype, hustling and strutting her stuff. And just as the rising sun must set, the music lowers itself below its horizon, the piano and synth leading our actors off stage, the final curtain call. 

 

A roar of applause, the lifted spirits of a few dozen happy drunks. 

 

“Come,” he beckons, his drink in one hand and in his other an offer for my hand. “Let me introduce you.”

 

Well, with this much alcohol in my system, I’m not going to refuse.

 

[♪] [Green and Gold - Takuya Kuroda](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RlG_ngzGmps%20) [♪]

 

With a change of pace, the band picks up with a sultry, almost seductive beat. Drum and bass open a conversation where trumpet and trombone exchange words, a flirtatious dialogue with the highs complimenting the lows. I’m almost jealous - I want to be that trumpet.

 

He leads me through the crowd, and they make way for him. Important enough a figure, or just a social butterfly?

 

“Trumpet or trombone?” he asks.

 

“Trumpet.”

 

He walks towards the trombone’s side of the stage, gesturing. I can see the words he mouths, sorry for interrupting, but can I have a moment?

 

Well, shit.

 

The trombonist nods, finishing up the last phrase while the trumpet continues on with their solo. He hops off stage, sauntering towards me with the asshole’s conceited grin.

 

“What’s up?”

 

The second embarrassment of the night. Despite appearances and assumptions, the moment the trombonists opens their mouth it becomes painfully obvious that even given the most conservative leeways for androgyny, she is female. 

 

“I-“ I start, breathing hard through my nose to prevent myself from stammer. “You play good.”

 

“Thanks,” she chuckles, her shoulders almost exaggerated in movement as she digs in her thumbs into her pockets. “I do what I can. You play as well?”

 

I point towards her partner. “Trumpet,” I repeat, awkward just radiating off me. 

 

“I’ll leave you two to it,” he says. “I’ll go grab more drinks. The usual?”

 

“Please,” she acknowledges, before returning to look at me. There’s a coy smile on her lips, and I feel bare before her. Like she’s observing every inch of me.

 

“Sorry for staring,” I catch myself, steadying my mental state. “You just look a lot like someone I know.”

 

She brings her free hand to her mouth. “Do I? Would that be a compliment?”

 

“It would,” I assure her. “It’s embarrassing, since you do very much look like him.”

 

“Ah,” she raises her chin, getting it. “I can’t blame you, with this.” Her hand does a once over on her vest over the collared oxford, towards the well-pressed jeans. “Does he play too?”

 

“Same instrument as you,” I say. “It’s been… quite a dream of mine to be able to play with him one day.”

 

“A dream, huh,” she sighs, wistful. “Is her a partner or a mentor?”

 

Kumiko gazes through her, and I feel that dreadful knot in my stomach. I would have said both without a second thought, but my hesitation would betray me. “The latter,” I confess.

 

“He better than me?” she jokes, a whiff of arrogance in her slightly ajar smile. 

 

“Of course,” I grin.

 

“Then I’d make good practice for you, wouldn’t I?” she laughs. “Can you keep up?”

 

It takes me a second to register what she’s offering me. “I have my own trumpet,” I say, materialising my gilded treasure from my inventory.

 

Curious stares follow us as we return to the stage, but nothing damning. If jazz is the theme, there’s bound to be room for improvisation. 

 

The trumpeter catches onto what we want to do quickly. Trombone apologises in advance with a mock salute, and I find the scores myself, having only a few seconds to get everything. Challenging, but not out of my element. The trumpeter gives a bow before I take over, and now we’re both center stage.

 

Doubling starts it off, as I match her rhythm and timbre. But we get a feel for things, one note after another, entering the groove. A playful ostinato there, some fancy hemiola here. Our song begins to take shape, evolving, a creature on its own. The crease of her lips turns upwards, and she nods to the drummer to speed things up.

 

The audience perks up, because the tension is thick enough that you can taste the anticipation of something great about to happen.

 

What comes next is a blur. Between pentatonic glissandos and arpeggios played in triple time, I seem to lose track of time. There’s no clearly defined solo, yet it feels like a cadenza - for two. After the last breath, there’s a split second of deafening silence, followed by thunderous cheer.

 

"Very nice!"

 

His booming voice is applause enough as he waltzes across the room, balancing three different glasses which he hands to each of us. After which, standing in the middle, he brings up both of our free hands, and leads us in a bow. The club swells as the adrenaline of performing lingers in my mind.

 

“Yer good,” the stout trumpeter tells me, gruff but with respect. “Real good."

 

I don’t get to thank him, because he cuts in, a smile of devastating charm commanding the room. Capturing my attention. I just can’t look away.

 

“Now,” he announces, to me but also to the entire club. We hang on his every word. “Let me show you a good time."

 

[♪] [Seven Nation Funk - DRA'man](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s1nXC05RFrs) [♪]

 

The motley crew of musicians rearrange themselves, guitarists coming to the fore as he grabs a microphone, the center of it all. The bass motif ensnares everyone, and the baritone backup has the club clapping along.

 

"This one’s for the one and the only."

 

_This hit, that ice cold, Michelle Pfeiffer, that white gold._

 

His voice is electric, so at ease yet full of swagger. Each movement is that of a seasoned performer who’s been singing his entire life.

 

_This one for them hood girls, them good girls, straight masterpieces._

 

Those eyes make contact with me, but it’s not just me. He teases, he praises, he worships and gets worshipped back.

 

_Stylin’, willing, livin’ it up in the city._

 

Each lyric is delivered smoother than silk, and you can feel it. You can live it, the entire era. You can believe the whole fiction.

 

_Got chucks on with Saint Laurent, gotta kiss myself I’m so pretty._

 

He must be that impossible fraction of people who compliment themselves, and no one disagrees.

 

By the time we get to the pre-chorus, he has everyone on their feet, chanting after him. There’s something larger than life here, having an entire room to be of a single mind, united in purpose even if that only purpose is to live it. For the first time, I can see the appeal of the hive mind, of just being another. You exist as just a face of the crowd because the crowd is just so much bigger than you could ever be.

 

The guitars ante up, the chorus chanting like the lyrics are a mantra and there he is, holding his cap, mic pointed at the audience, and it’s all just so much fun. He dares us to become the fun.

 

_Don’t believe me just watch!_

 

At the beat’s drop, the bass just gets into your bones. It’s an ominous riff, but the kind that you want to be a part of. You want to be bad. You want to be in on the secret plan, the machinations, to storm the city, to spearhead the revolution. It’s like we’re mobsters, a gang rolling out in the darkest night, and he’s there, the lynchpin, the king of it all.

 

I can see it. The coats, the rifles, the bats with nails sticking out. The Harleys and Royces parading the street. The alleyways painted in swathes of shadow. This song is unmistakably Dersite - the brooding bravado, the composed calculation, the undercurrent of madness just waiting to erupt. I’ve never been proud to be a Derse dreamer, but I can now.

 

Even as the others hush for the bass motif to usher in the second verse, the energy is still there. As we carry on, the lyrics are ingrained in everyone’s minds, and we belt it out even as he sings above us all, without shouting, without breaking a single sweat.

 

_Stop, wait a minute,_

 

_Fill my cup put some liquor in it._

 

_Take a sip, sign a check._

 

_Julio, Get the stretch!_

 

_Ride to Harlem, Hollywood, Jackson, Mississippi._

 

_If we show up, we gon' show out,_

 

_Smoother than a fresh jar of Skippy._

 

_I'm too hot,_

 

A question

 

_Hot damn!_

 

An answer.

 

_Call the po-lice, and_ _the fireman._

 

An affirmation.

 

Is this religion? A cult? All those irrational feelings, fears, silly, silly emotions, I understand them now. Why would anybody do something stupid?

 

Because sometimes stupid just feels so right.

 

_Girls hit your hallelujah,_

 

Each falsetto note gets me, a physical reaction blooming from within. As the music gears up for the second chorus, our hands go up, waves of vigour in a sea of black, and the guitar just shreds it. The solo to end all solos. And for the first time, he takes a breather.

 

I must’ve had eight drinks? Nine? Enough that as I find myself close to him, I have the courage to talk, to ask.

 

"I realised that I don’t know your name,” I holler above the crowd.

 

"And neither do I,” he whispers to me, leaning into my ear. "We don’t do names, do we?"

 

"I suppose not,” I grin.

 

"You’re the Prince,” he states. "I’m the Enigmatic Savant."

 

I cover my giggle with my hands. "That’s a mouthful.”

 

“A mouthful is all I have,” he laughs. “Would you like more?”

 

“More is always better,” I reply. “A prince always takes what she can."

 

“You know, you’ve intrigued me,” he says. “And I’ve had a good time. I know what you’re here for, we all do. And despite our differences, I want you to succeed. So I have something that might interest you."

 

The blood is pumping in my ears, but my breathing centers me, keeps me grounded. I might be more drunk than I’ve ever been, but what I’m hearing is business. A step forward. A step higher.

 

“I’m listening."

 

_Before we leave, lemme tell you a lil’ something._

* * *

.

 

.

 

.

 

<♪>

 

.

 

.

 

.

* * *

 

He was right. It would’ve been next to impossible to spot from outside.

 

Just another shop among many, but if you know what to look for it’s unmistakeable. A maroon book, double stitched, he said. Not many people come because nobody’s really interested in Derse. Reading as a pastime? Pah.

 

But knowledge is power.

 

The storekeeper looks up from their crossword puzzle, puffing on their cigar. They seem to know what I’m here for, and gesture towards the bookshelf at the upper right corner of the premises.

 

Seconds, the Enigmatic Savant said. Second row from the top, second column from the left, second book. Peel back.

 

And with a click, the trapdoor reveals itself, the wooden panels sliding to reveal a flight of stairs leading into the dim-lit depths.

 

An underworld of books.

 

[♪] [Endless Climb - George Buzinkai](https://homestuck.bandcamp.com/track/endless-climb-2) [♪]

 

When the light becomes bright enough to get a sense of space, you realise the stairs carry on for at least another good three storeys down. And the dimensions of this refuge far exceed anything I could imagine. It’s far larger than a football field, more akin to a tiny campus.

 

Shelves upon shelves upon shelves. A repository of literature far more than I could ever consume in a hundred lifetimes. This wealth of knowledge… how could anyone not want it? Because there doesn’t seem to be a single soul down here. Were Dersites too overwhelmed, or do they simply not care?

 

As luck would have it, I do come face to face with the only other person here. 

 

“Oh,” I mouth, not surprised in the least. “You."

 

Asuka looks up from her stack of books scattered across the floor, pages forming swathes of cream against the gloomy, gothic floor. She breaks into a stupid grin, giving me a tiny wave.

 

"Looks like my secret hiding spot’s been discovered,” she shrugs. "Eh, it was only a matter of time."

 

I don’t know if I should… leave? Quite frankly, I’m tired enough of euphoniums and euphonium related things.

 

“Oh, don’t mind me,” she laughs. "It’s yours to peruse as well. The world’s best kept secret."

 

She’s always had a flair for the dramatic, Asuka. Even as I stand, unsure how to continue, she manages add herself into the location while remaining lying on the floor, her tone, her expression, every minute gesture doing the heavy lifting and selling the illusion of grandiosity. But given the place? I’m buying it wholesale.

 

"Welcome to the Library of Derse."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hella long chapter. at least, it felt that way writing it.  
> kousaka gets it on. don’t say the girl doesn’t know how to party
> 
> thanks for reading my story.


	66. Jazz Improv 3.6.3 (Haruka)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so so sorry for the late updates. there's a double chapter update to make up for things, even though we're still behind. thank you for your patience and understanding.

"Would you like tea? Anything I can get you?"

 

"No thank you."

 

Aoi sits by the window, a pretty picture of mint and strawberries in her red dress. She gazes at the fields of periwinkle and marigold, pensive. The intensity of her silence is disqueiting, and I'm not sure if I should disturb her.

 

But I called her over. The onus of hosting's on me.

 

[♪] [Song for Miguel - Moon Hooch](https://moonhooch.bandcamp.com/track/song-for-miguel-2) [♪]

 

"We haven't done this in a while," I start, placing a glass of water on the table for her anyway. "It's nice to be with you."

 

"It is," Aoi replies. "Sorry I haven't had much time with you and the others."

 

"What have you been up to these days?" I ask.

 

Aoi shrugs. "Midori. Alone. Sometimes Natsuki. I'm either with myself or the juniors.” She relaxes her usually tense brows, a hint of regret on her lips. "Maybe if I got to know them earlier, I might've changed my mind about band."

 

“You’re still one of us,” I tell her, adamant. “You always have been.”

 

“But what if I don’t want to be?” she shoots back. “After SunFes… it just became so hard to be one of you. I’m not of the same mind."

 

“You’ve put in two years,” I reason. “We want something to come of the time we’ve had in band, don’t we?"

 

“It’s no longer a priority,” Aoi shakes her head. “There’s only so much time to go around, and I want to spend that time doing what’s important. Midterms were a wake up call - I need to buck up.”

 

“You don’t-“

 

Aoi snaps at me. “I really do. There’s too much at stake for me!”

 

“What about me?” I challenge.

 

Without giving either of us room to breathe, I continue. “You know my story. You’ve been by my side these short two years, watching me struggle and do all that I can. I’m somehow the president now, even though I’m never going to pursue a music career, and I have exams too, you know!”

 

It’s uncharted territory, this. I just want to shake some sense into her, and what’s coming out of my mouth is shocking to the both of us. “I want your support, Aoi. I want to know I haven’t failed. You’re one of my best friends, and well… can’t you do this for me? I want to be able to play with you, practice with you during sectionals.”

 

My heart’s pounding, there’s cold sweat on the back of my neck, and Aoi looks sympathetic. I’ve only made this harder for the both of us, huh?

 

“Well, none of that matters now,” Aoi sighs. “We’re stuck here."

 

“I think it still does,” I tell her. "We need you Aoi, now more than ever."

 

"I’ll play my part now - and it’s far from the breather I’ve needed, the inverse, actually,” she says. "But after this is all over, and god I just want this to be over, it’s back to just… the way things are. I’ll leave the band, if our absence hasn’t already brought it into shambles, and continue on my merry way."

 

“You’ve… you’ve been distant,” I say. “Not actively avoiding us, but… as you’ve said, not been of the same mind? I don’t know. I don’t know what you’ve been doing, this is the first time we’ve been properly talking and it’s almost a month. What… what happened?”

 

She gets it. It’s not just a matter of band, although that’s important as well. But through metaphors..? Or whatever cryptic equivalency we’re trying so badly to communicate through, I think we’re just trying to connect. Aoi’s introverted, without a doubt. She’s quiet, but never unfriendly. But of late, she’s just been drifting. And I want to throw her a lifeline, through just speaking or however I can. A dialogue is the best place to start things, but I don’t know how to follow up on this.

 

The silence is damning. And neither of us are conversationalists. 

 

"Did you know, as a child I thought of myself as a genius?”

 

Aoi looks wistful, a sad smile on her lips. She glances at me, before immediately breaking eye contact, and staring out the window. “Ha... quite pretentious of me, just because I could study well - and I could! I did really well, and everyone was proud of me. My parents and teachers… they’ve all had high expectations. And then reality happens, because there’s always going to be someone better.”

 

Her tone hardens, someone enduring a bitter taste. "I don’t want to compare myself with… her. I’ve always looked up to her, and I can’t anymore, not after…”

 

.

 

.

 

I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for her.

 

"But I fell short,” she picks up, recovering. "That ‘someone better’ is just that - the ones who are better, not necessarily anyone in particular. It’s not just a matter of competing with myself, I didn’t do well enough to best others who wanted to get into the high school we wanted to, so I didn’t make the cut. And for college, all I have left is more of myself to give. I don’t want to make the same mistake, Haruka.”

 

Our feelings are scattershot, all over the place, as we try to force them out. Each rapid fire word as part of a story we try to tell, as we try to listen.

 

"Everyone sacrifices something to get where they want to, and… this is my sacrifice."

 

"What are you sacrificing here, Aoi?"

 

"I don’t know,” she shrugs. "It feels like everything. I’ve _died_. I really wanted to make this work, but I don’t know if I can do it. Everyone’s moving ahead, and it’s not like I’m not trying. But I don’t know how to face any of you when… I’m just dead weight. There’s never enough time. There’s never enough of me.”

 

There’s never enough. I know how that feels but I don’t know how to help. I want to help so bad.

 

I feel Kaori hugging me from behind, her soothing shampoo bringing me calm. Just thinking about her centers me, tides me through time times. Her ghostly voice gives me my answer, and I feel so silly for not having thought about it sooner.

 

_Just ask her, Haruka._

 

"Will you be okay?” I ask. "Can I do anything to help?”

 

_She might not know herself, but at least she knows more than you, right?_

 

“Well…” Aoi starts. “Could you invite me over more often? I think… I’d like to see you. And have tea."

 

It feels like I’ve been holding my breath for the past few minutes, and everything just eases up. “Of course,” I tell her. 

 

It’s not much, but it’s a start.

 

“Haruka? It’s me.”

 

Aoi freezes as my guest rattles off a few knocks at the front door. This could spiral into something real bad real fast.

 

“Give me a second!” I holler back, before whispering back at Aoi. “I’m so, so, sorry. She’s never early, but-“

 

“It’s fine,” Aoi breathes. “I’ll just… show myself out?”

 

“There’s a back door behind the kitchen,” I tell her, almost hissing at the intensity of my whispers. “Thanks for dropping by! I’ll call you soon, alright?”

 

But there’s no reply. She’s already left.

 

Agh. Trust that woman to have better timing.

 

“I’m not sure if you did that on purpose,” I frown, opening the front door. “Because if you did, that was horrible.”

 

“Being early is a crime now?” Asuka quips. She doesn’t look guilty, and I know that the incident weighs down on her so… a bad coincidence? It’s hard to believe that Asuka acts on imperfect information, but then again it’s just a meeting at my place. I suppose it just means that she lets her guard down around me which is… that’s good.

 

I usher her into my house, nagging at her to leave her shoes by the door. She follows me into the kitchen, spots Aoi’s untouched glass of water, and she knows.

 

We’re left staring at each other for the most excruciating five seconds I’ve ever had.

 

[♪] [Downside Ballad - Darren Korb](https://youtu.be/uH3Aoj1nw58?t=227) [♪]

 

"Well, hey," I wave, awkward, unsure of what to do with my hands. 

 

"Hey you, yourself,” Asuka tries to defuse the situation. "Don’t be a stranger."

 

“Well." I slap my hands to my sides, before going to get drinks. “Make yourself at home. You want anything? Refreshments?”

 

"I doubt you could make a better lemonade than the ones I have back home,” Asuka jokes. "Anyway, do you want to go straight to business, or..?”

 

I return from the kitchen with two strawberry lemonades. "I think we can get that out of the way first. Chit-chat after the important stuff."

 

"Of course,” Asuka nods. “Well, I’m here to update you on Bilious Slick."

 

“Bilious who-now?” I frown, taking a sip from a straw.

 

“Well, I’ve done an extensive amount of research, and what you and the others found down in the sewers of Prospit? It’s much more important than we could’ve imagined. That frog is endgame.”

 

Endgame. Besides the White Queen’s nebulous goal which seems so far away, I don’t think we’ve ever had a lead on exactly what is going on in this universe. There’s a war, but so what? White is destined to lose, but destiny can take a very long time to unfold. We want answers, and it looks like Asuka’s got them.

 

“I’m listening,” I tell her, sucking so furiously on my straw I empty the glass in six seconds.

 

I spend the next two minutes nursing a recovery from brain freeze.

 

* * *

 

 

“If that’s true…” I say, speechless. This changes everything.

 

“What I don’t understand is why we’ve been kept in the dark for so long,” Asuka frowns. “I have a few guesses, but none of them are good. Prospit’s and Skaia’s goals should be aligned, but…”

 

She leaves the question hanging for me to figure out myself.

 

“I’ll let the other Prospit dreamers know,” I tell her. “This explains a lot. Thanks, Asuka.”

 

“Hey, no problem,” she grins, kicking back and stretching in her chair, rocking back and forth. “That’s part of my job, yeah? And I’m always here to support you.”

 

“I haven’t forgotten,” I sigh. 

 

“You know,” I say. “You’d make a much better leader than me.”

 

“That’s the thousandth time I’ve heard you say that,” Asuka sniggers. “I thought we were over this?”

 

“Well, recent events have done quite a number on my perpetually low self-esteem,” I roll my eyes at her, half-sarcastic. “But I’m serious. I don’t know if I’m cut out for any of it.”

 

Asuka eyes me carefully. “How recent? Like… twenty minutes ago recent?”

 

“I-“

 

She knows the answer before I can say it. “On that front, we’re both colossal failures. That’s not far to any of us.”

 

“Fine!” I concede. “But… you do it so much better than I do!”

 

“I want receipts,” Asuka folds her arms, stubborn. She even sticks her tongue at me for good measure.

 

“What are you, five? You don’t need receipts,” I sigh. “We both know that I’m much more suited for a supporting role - which is perfectly reasonable. We all have our strengths and weaknesses and… when we go back. Even though I’m not sure anymore if we will, I don’t know if I can continue what I’ve been doing, you know? I keep saying that I’ll bear and grin it and learn to love every second of it but… you’d be so much better at it. Why did you turn it down?”

 

Asuka’s… quiet. She’s never quiet, but that only means that she’s actually thinking.

 

So when she replies… I know that it’s not her typical rubbish, but something that perhaps, comes sincerely from her.

 

“There’s a very simple reason, Haruka. I love music, not band.”

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“That’s why you’re the leader,” Asuka smiles. “For the longest time, I really couldn’t give two shits about what happened. I just wanted to play. To get better at my craft. The others could go to hell, I have absolutely no time to waste on juggling politics and feelings - even if I’m good at it. If the band was superb and we made beautiful music together, that was a bonus. But it never really mattered.”

 

.

 

.

 

“Asuka…”

 

“Well, that was until I actually became a senpai,” she grins, but it’s a nostalgic grin. “There was so much drama in year 2, I never really managed to connect with anyone. They never tried either, and all I had were the bass kouhai. Riko and Gotou and Natsuki are all good kids, and we had none of that drama, but… they’re all awfully quiet. But then, this year…"

 

Her smile grows, and she brings her glass of lemonade to her lips as she stares out the window. “I really warmed up to the kids, you know? Each of them so pure and full of promise and youth. It was refreshing.”

 

Asuka smacks her lips, going ‘aaah,’ at the lemonade, raising her glass in a mock toast to me. I giggle at her joke - refreshing indeed.

 

“And then, there was this girl, so unbelievably stereotypical of a euphonium that… damn. She looked so much like a mirror of what I could’ve been, you know? And then it felt too late. I would never be like Kumiko, and god forbid she ever ends up like me.”

 

I place my hand on her shoulder. “They all look up to you, you know,” I say. “So many people do. I do.”

 

“It’s an accursed existence,” she tells me, and I can’t tell if she’s joking. “You’re an angel, Haruka. Don’t aspire to be a devil like me."

 

“For what it’s worth,” I say. “If you’re a devil, then you’re the best one there is.”

 

Asuka tugs on the one hand on her shoulder, such that I move closer, and I find myself leaning into her. When was the last time I hugged Asuka? I don’t… remember. She’s never been the touchy type. But she needs it now. The stakes have raised, the game going to get a lot harder, and even after all that? There’s real life we have to confront. The woes of being an adolescent finding her way in a big world.

 

But we’ll face it together. That’s what us friends are here for.

 

As we remain in each other’s embrace, that’s all the reminder we need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> third years.
> 
> i don't think haruka's really interacted with anyone outside of kaori? yeah, time to fix that.
> 
> today's soundscapes come from:
> 
> Moon Hooch, which is an absolutely fantastic concept. just two saxophones and a drum, making ecstatically danceable tracks that could give lots of edm a run for their money. it works, and 
> 
> Pyre, the second of 2017's indie media darlings about the intersection between sports and faith. the game's OST is by the inimitable Darren Korb, who has done superb work for Supergiant Games.


	67. Jazz Improv 3.5.4 (Natsuki)

Hood up, hair down.

 

Sneakers out, earphones on.

 

Let’s go.

 

[♪] [99 - MOB CHOIR](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h2N4wQuho9k) [♪]

 

Song tickles my ears, Hazuki’s advice for a good time.

 

Salt on my lips, earth in the wind. The mountains are an ocean, and I am the captain. The planets and kingdoms guide my course across the blue and black. The night is young and so am I, let the music bring us to new heights!

 

_1_     We rise, 

     _2_     the children,

         _3_     of clay, 

             _4_     and mud, 

                 _5_     inherit, 

                     _6_     the pulse, 

                         _7_     of, _8_ earth’s , _9_ beating, _10_ heart,

 

_11_     We climb, 

   _12_     the steps, 

         _13_     the ladder, 

             _14_     of promise, 

                 _15_     the hope, 

                     _16_     we hold,

                         _17_     will, _18_ make, _19_ us, _20_ fly!

 

_21, 22, 23, 24, 25,_

 

I surf along the cliffside on a board of white as the oni clamber behind and below me. 

 

_26, 27, 28, 29, 30,_

 

Kyros digs their fingers into the mountain wall, swinging from rock to rock like an ape.

 

_31, 32, 33, 34, 35_

 

With one mighty arc, they vault forward into the open expanse, the other oni looking on in awe.

 

_36, 37, 38, 39, 40,_

 

I take the reins of hope, my energy synchronising with Kyros’ gem. And then we are one, riding the wind as we plummet towards the ground.

 

_Mob! Mob! What do you want?_

 

The cheers feed into the hectic anticipation, the energy.

 

_Mob! Mob! Why do you want?_

 

I want this because I’ve never wanted anything else as bad before.

 

_Mob! Mob! Who do you want?_

 

I want myself, I want to be free.

 

_Move! Move! Just like Mob!_

 

And once again, I will take my destiny, and only move ahead!

 

My aura engulfs our landing, the impact like that on a trampoline, and we’re up again now, all of us - Suntory, Ruinaulta, Padma, Kyros, Osiris, the whole crew in the dozens. The view of the planet is staggering, and I whoop above the roar of the wind.

 

I can’t really explain how I get this to work, any of it. My aura of hope takes form, but never anything really concrete. I don’t think of hands, or limbs, or trees. It’s always fluid, moving, seeking to accomplish the ends rather than focusing on the means. And the end is always to bring about whatever I believe should be possible, and making that happen. A sixteen year old shouldn’t be able to fly across a planet with an entourage of rock people but that’s exactly what’s going on. 

 

Do you understand? I’m sure you don’t, because I don’t either. All that matters is that it’s happening.

 

This is change in the wind.

 

_41_     Go up,

     _42_     go higher,

         _43_     the clouds,

             _44_     beneath us,

                 _45_     the gates,

                     _46_     approaching,

                         _47_     we, _8_ count, _9_ our, _50_ blessings,

 

_1_     One,

     _52_      two,

         _53_     three, that's

             _54_     the one,

                 _55_     we enter,

                     _56_     the circle and,

                         _57_     a, _8_ whole, _9_ new, _60_ world!

 

_1, 62, 63, 64, 65_

 

The Land of Gryphons and Windchimes greets us, the first time the oni have been on a planet other than their own.

 

_66, 67, 68, 69 70_

 

I paint the sky with white, and the wind answers my call, the discordant cacophony now playing to my tune.

 

_71, 72, 73, 74, 75_

 

The majestic gryphons flock to us - I can’t imagine why Nozomi would hate this place - and we each hitch a ride.

 

_76, 77, 78, 79, 80_

 

No gems for my aura to resonate with, but we steer the gryphons all the same. We ride above the ashen lapis tundra, our howls in the wind.

 

The land is beautiful. There are golden electric pools bubbling in crevices not far from her house, while the rock and mineral form loosely to produce natural woodwind instruments. Each gryphon squawks in delight, even as some oni cry out in distress, but there’s no need to fear. I’m here for all of them.

 

_If everyone is not special, maybe you can be what you want to be_ \- but here, we are all special, all different. The powerlessness others feel, that I have felt before, I can help now. I can give them what they want.

 

_Your life is your own, ok?_ \- I can now believe in myself, my friends, my ability to take charge and change things. Different worlds are colliding all at once, and I am the nexus pulling them together. The gates form a beeline of portals and we go through them, cycling through a multitude of skies until we’re back home, back to the Land of Oni and Caverns.

 

The music swells, dithering electronic notes hitting a crescendo with the wail of the guitar riff, and we sail back to earth, oni and gryphons alike, watching the shimmering indigo lakes ripple across the planet.

 

This confidence is all I need. With a snap of my fingers, my imagination surpasses itself, and there are the caverns where the oni have lived their entire lives, and they’ve never seen it like this before. There’s flying and there’s experiencing and we’re doing the latter. I am them and they are me, the oni not just extensions the same way my aura doesn’t extend me.

 

It’s a harmonious unity of flavours, a melting pot of ideas and identities.

 

It’s everything I could’ve dreamed of.

 

_Mob! Mob! Whatever you want!_

 

I want it all.

 

_Mob! Mob! Whenever you want!_

 

I want it now.

 

_Mob! Mob! Wherever you want!_

 

I want it here.

 

_Move! Move! Just like Mob!_

 

_If you can notice you’re not alone,_

 

There’s a deep hole burrowing into the planet’s core,

 

_maybe you will find your own answer,_

 

a silver lustre peeking through it, the cavern where the beast resides. My denizen, the moon personified, hibernating even as its reflection watches over our night. I grin at it, the moon beneath us, the moon at the core of our planet, my white unfurling in anticipation.

 

_Your life is your own, ok?_

 

Affirmation after affirmation, that I can do this. We can conquer ourselves, our planets. We can win the war, and slay the bosses that stand in our way. This universe is ours for the taking, and then we’ll go home. That’s always been the end goal. After the fun and games, we go home.

 

_If everyone is not special,_ the world would be such a boring place, and in a sense it is. That’s fine! But we have been blessed with a fantasy that is reality, and even when we return to the world of the mundane, it’s the little things we’ll bring back with us. Like tonight. Not all the extravagant hand waving and otherworldly feats of destruction.

 

The memories we create. 

 

It’s the home run now, as the gryphons circle about, a slide of white spiralling into my house, a funnel directing us into the final stretch. The gryphons descend until their claws skid against the white, and then they’re galloping, and the oni are off their backs and running, and before we know it we’re sliding, falling, 

 

_81_     going down

_82_      going faster

         _83_     lungs screaming

_84_     with joy                

                 _85_     breath taken

_86_     blood pumping heart and 

                       _87_     mind _8_ as _9_ one _90_ the void of 

_1_     light of                                       

                               _92_     life and death

_93_    through time and                             

                                       _94_     space come crashing

_95_     down a blurry                                        

                                               _96_     rush of rage and

_97_     laughter ends in                                                

                                                         _98_     hope,

**_99_ **

 

It all ends in hope.

 

* * *

 

Yuuko’s penthouse is the stage for our gathering. Any of us could just fly up to the top, but I feel like using the lift today. Elevator music's my jam.

 

I’m still humming when I step out, all grins to an otherwise… gloomy council? It’s not so much gloomy than just… serious. It’s a serious discussion, but I can sense the anticipation beneath everyone’s demeanours. There’s something boiling beneath the surface, a kind of passion waiting to be stoked. Waiting to be fired up. And I’m here to do what I do best. 

 

Give hope.

 

“What’s cooking friends?” I grin, firing off finger pistols and drumming on a long table as I shimmy my way to them. The elevator makes another ding as it closes, and I continue humming that obnoxiously cheesy tune.

 

Nozomi’s the first to crack, her grin expanding as I go in for the fist bump. I extend my fist to a reluctant Yuuko, “don’t leaving me hanging, girl,” and when she finally accepts with her eyes rolled, I fake out, bringing my hands to style my hair. That gets Nozomi bursting with laughter.

 

Yuuko simpers, her feet tapping the ground erratically and I can almost hear the screech of her boiling kettle, but she doesn’t feed into me, clever as she is. Her complains are a symphony to my ears, and she digests the joke, taking it with expectation and grace, and allows a snort, followed by a stifled smile. She resets her face by blowing on her fringe, and gesturing towards Nozomi to get down to business.

 

Mizore remains otherwise unaffected, but that’s Mizore. I’m actually a miracle worker, but some things aren’t mine to touch.

 

Either way, I would’ve never dreamed that one day, I’d become to bringer of infectious enthusiasm, but here I am. 

 

With the tension lifted, and spirits raring to go, Nozomi clears her throat, and begins talking.

 

“Alright, tomorrow’s the big day. Let’s review the plan one final time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE STUFF: The next chapter update and end of the arc will be on Saturday. It was supposed to be today, but I'm really sorry about the delays. 
> 
> whoooo
> 
> this is one of the more fun chapters i’ve written, and i really wanted to get the rhythm of it all right! 99 is amazing and when listening to my library i just felt that this had to be a natsuki song. 
> 
> the next chapter’s the last of this arc. and that’s fast! it’s been more than seven months since we’ve started updating, but it almost feels like yesterday when i started. with the end of arc 3, i can safely say we’re at the one third mark. here’s to the rest of it.
> 
> and as always, thank you so much for reading my story.


	68. Jazz Improv 3.3.5 (Kumiko)

“Hey, Aoi."

 

[♪] [On The Nature Of Daylight - Max Richter](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qtnmvHMQtcI) [♪]

 

“Kumiko.”

 

.

 

.

 

“Hey, thanks for the other day. I don’t think well… none of us really predicted it, huh?”

 

“If you need a shoulder, I’ll always be here, yeah?”

 

.

 

“Anyway I er. I missed you. So I… called?”

 

“You only left my place for like… five days..! Your family went to Tokyo for _years_.”

 

“Eh… that was so long ago. I don’t remember half of it. Childhood’s a blur.”

 

“Really? Well… there are a few vivid images that come to mind. I remember them fondly.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Mm… 

 

.

 

.

 

there was… that one time, I think you were five..? Yeah. It was spring, the middle of it… some time in April…”

 

“April’s a… it’s a nice month.”

 

“…yeah. Mamiko… she’d just finished school… no that’s not right. It was a Saturday, I think. There was some extracurricular activity she had, and she finished that, and came back. We were at your place. You and I were doodling with crayons.”

 

“Doesn’t seem awfully... _remarkable_.”

 

“I guess..? That’s the point. I don’t know. For me it’s the unremarkable that sticks, but maybe it isn’t so… mundane. You’ll see why. I remember that it was warm, but not sticky. The sky looked like it reflected the ocean, the clouds rippling across it in waves. It almost looked green, the kind of crystal clear, greenish liquid you see in nature documentaries… even though we live so far from the sea..! I remember that.”

 

“You know… that sounds about right. There was a kind of freshness in the air… right? When we’d go out and about the neighbourhood. You’d never really sweat, and each breath tasted like vanilla ice cream.”

 

“Mm… yeah… I liked that.

 

.

 

.

 

…I really did.”

 

“I did too.”

 

“So… where was I? The-“

 

“Apartment. Mine.”

 

“Right. Right… so, there we were. Just _kids_ , you know? Crayons and all. I think… there were markers too? Those ones with the fat tip, and you could just slather ink all over the page. I… liked those.”

 

“You did..!”

 

“…yeah. Then, Mamiko came back. She was making a ruckus of sorts, and teasing you about something. I don’t remember the words but I remember that they were loud. They-“

 

“She tried to weasel her way into tricking me that going to school on Saturday was a good thing. I questioned her about why… she had to work on a day without work? But she just… she tried to make it sound like she was doing something super secret and fun and wouldn’t let me in on it…”

 

“Yes… that sounds about right.”

 

“…you always just watched politely and smiled, huh?”

 

“I mean… well yeah. Siblings are their own thing, you know?”

 

“I think more than once we made you uncomfortable, huh? Making you choose a side.”

 

“Ha..! Well… I’d always try to be as diplomatic as possible.”

 

“How else could you have done it, right?”

 

“Yeah… oh my, we just keep digressing…”

 

“It’s fine… it’s always nice to… _reminisce_ , you know? We never… talk like this.”

 

.

 

.

 

“Well… we are now… right..?”

 

“Yeah. 

 

.

 

That’s what counts.”

 

“Mm.

 

.

 

.

 

So! Mamiko came back.”

 

“I better stop interrupting or you’ll never finish your story.”

 

“You’re interrupting now, Kumiko.”

 

“Right..! Riiiight… sorry. Okay… zip.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Ymmr melcmmm.”

 

“Aunty… she came to check on us, yeah? All that noise Mamiko and you were making. And then she noticed our drawings… I…

 

.

 

.

 

I remember Mamiko was quite jealous. It was like your mum was looking at the work of her two daughters but Mamiko wasn’t one of them. And she was like what... ten? Like, that’s old enough for certain existential dread to set in but emotional maturity… it’s just confused. So, it’s a mess up there. Much of prepubescent and adolescent life is anyway. And…

 

.

 

she _smiled_ and said she really liked my drawing. 

 

.

 

.

 

Now, I know that my art’s not _fantastic_. It’s…

 

.

 

not shabby as well? But… I know that she wouldn’t have complimented it otherwise. At that moment I… felt something was a bit off? Not that it was fake. Because Mamiko’s just like my older sister too and I know she regarded me likewise. She was happy for me.

 

.

 

.

 

But I think… that felt like the first time she had conflicted feelings and made a choice about which way things should go. She… put on a brave face, and did something contrary to her gut, because she knew what was important to her. 

 

.

 

And years later, when I had to make a similar decision for the first time, when… faced with the kind of complexity and knowledge one realises as one grows up. This was the image that comes to mind. And in retrospect, a lot of things make… sense? And it’s stayed close to my heart… this image of pink cherry blossoms against a green sky, in an apartment with a sliding glass panel leading to the balcony, and three young girls were just… hanging out.

 

.

 

.

 

The first epiphany in a time of innocence.”

 

.

 

“Oh. _Wow_.”

 

.

 

“Was that too… deep..? Ha… I-“

 

“No, it was fine. I like that story. I remember it better now, too…”

 

“Mm. Oh dang… I’m sure you didn’t call me so you could hear me wax philosophical and be all focused on heavy themes and-“

 

“No, no..!”

 

“-it’s been tough for you, and I should be more aware-"

 

"Aoi… it’s alright. I-“

 

“-of the mood, and made things more-“

 

“I… like it when you’re _real_.”

 

.

 

.

 

“I-“

 

“You… you’re being honest. You’re being yourself. I… that’s all I ever wanted.”

 

.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah. Thanks, Aoi.”

 

.

 

“No problem.”

 

“It’s a beautiful story. You tell really nice stories…”

 

“Thank you.”

 

.

 

“I wish I could tell them like you..!”

 

“Oh, _I don’t know_ … it’s just… a touch of personal flair, I guess..? Just droning on and on…”

 

“Reina says I tend to ramble too… heh. Maybe… I learned from you?”

 

“Psh… we’ve hardly spent a lot of time together…”

 

“Not now… but, we used to.”

 

.

 

“Yeah… we used to."

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“Hey, Aoi?”

 

“Yeah?"

 

[♪] [Do I Wanna Know (Christina Grimmie Cover) - Arctic Monkeys](https://youtu.be/7zowVIVNV-8?t=6) [♪]

 

“ _I miss Reina_.”

 

.

 

.

 

“I _know_ , sweetheart.”

 

“And… I don’t know. I don’t know if I wanna know…”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“She… she’s just been so frustrating and confusing..! I don’t… all these mixed signals since junior high… 

 

.

 

I wish I could say we have a history… but we don’t… really? I can’t tell which moments are meaningful, which are part of her whimsical fancy… it feels dreamy at first, but then reality hits and I don’t know which way she wants to commit, if she wants to at all. And then she goes and pulls shit like that, after I plucked up the courage to ask her out, to kiss her.”

 

.

 

.

 

“I’m sorry, Kumiko…”

 

“D-… don’t be. I’m a fool…”

 

“…you’re _not_ , okay? She… she’s a beautiful girl. I don’t know if I like girls but even I can tell why you fell for her.”

 

“Y.. you..?”

 

“Hey, I’m allowed to be confused as well, yeah..?”

 

“…oh. I’m-“

 

“Shh… don’t apologise, okay? Never apologise to me. I’m not here for you to feel sorry, alright?”

 

.

 

.

 

“Okay…”

 

“We support each other. That’s what we do.”

 

“…yeah. Yeah.”

 

“And now… I want you to know. Kousaka Reina is damned lucky to have you and if she can’t see that, it’s her loss. It’s a shame, really. You’re such a darling, sensitive soul, and I’m not going to watch her drag that through the mud.”

 

“…does it suck that I still want her? Even after all this?”

 

“Oh no… no it doesn’t. Your feelings are valid, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, okay? Even me. I don’t really understand, I’m still figuring things out, but... that’s me. You’re you."

 

“Al… alright. Thanks, Aoi.”

 

“And no need to thank me, Kumiko.”

 

“Heh… here you are being all buddy-buddy, but it’s like you’re... distancing yourself too.”

 

“I’m..!

 

.

 

.

 

Huh. You really see through me... don’t you?”

 

.

 

“Old habits hard to shake off?”

 

“Thanks for pointing it out. Well… I’ve never been used to being supported. Even with Midori… I’m not particularly _good_ with the whole give and take…”

 

“That’s fine, Aoi.”

 

“I think… it’s because I’m still not sure what I see Midori and I as..? Like… clearly I still feel like her senior. And as a senior… I have to take care of her, you know? Like the way Mamiko dotes on you…”

 

“Ha. I’m not sure she has.”

 

“…you know what I mean. And okay that’s a bit weird, bringing up incestuous undertones in a relationship-“

 

“Aoi…”

 

“Alright..! I mean, but that’s the point, right? I’m not sure. I don’t know if I like Midori in _that way_. In the same way you like Reina.”

 

“Midori’s a sweet girl. I’m sure she’ll understand if she’s not… your type? I mean, you’re dating right..? That’s what dating’s about… trying to find out if your partner fits you-“

 

“I don’t… think that’s the problem? She… she’s lovely. And our personalities fit really well, they’re almost complementary. But…

 

.

 

I just don’t know if having an ‘us’ is… what I want. In the way that traditionally, people have been thinking about an ‘us’. I certainly don’t want to… get intimate with her. I don’t want to get intimate with anyone.”

 

“Well… I’m sure if you talk it out with Midori she’ll understand-“

 

“I…

 

.

 

.

 

I don’t think it’s a matter of talking. It’s a matter of me.”

 

.

 

“Okay, then.”

 

“It’s… funny. Here you are, wondering if Reina truly likes you. And here I am, wondering the exact opposite.”

 

“Huh. That’s…”

 

“…yeah.”

 

.

 

.

 

“Well… I guess..?

 

.

 

We could help each other out..??”

 

“We _could_ …”

 

.

 

.

 

“I… as someone on the other side, although I’m sure Midori isn’t really thinking about this, but… oh this half-roleplay is weird.”

 

“Haaa. You tell me.”

 

“…hmph. Okay.

 

.

 

I want to tell you to take your time, but I’m getting impatient here. I feel like… I just want an answer from Reina, you know? So that if it’s a no, I can get this all over with, and move on, and…

 

.

 

.

 

…but I actually _don’t_ want to know... I don’t know. Agh!!”

 

“Woah, you alright? Do you-“

 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, it’s just…

 

.

 

…what if she says no? It’s terrifying. I don’t want to be selfish and something that doesn’t work well… doesn’t work.

 

.

 

But… I want this so bad. I want _her_ … and now that everything’s in flux… I sometimes just wish it’d stay that way, as frustrating as this all is. Because an answer..?

 

.

 

I’m not sure I’m ready to find out if this feeling flows both ways.”

 

.

 

“Looks like… the onus is on my side, huh? If I have the guts to decide, to follow through.”

 

.

 

“I… guess.”

 

.

 

.

 

“Whoo.”

 

“Mm.”

 

.

 

.

 

“We both know that… we can’t control the other side, yeah?”

 

“…yeah.”

 

“I guess… in the end all we can do is wait. For answers.

 

.

 

I mean well… Midori’s not impatient like you, I guess? She’s not waiting for an answer. But… I have to give her one eventually.”

 

“You do.

 

.

 

You know, Aoi..?”

 

“Mm?”

 

“I think what I’m afraid of the most.

 

.

 

Is just… that… maybe someday Reina might know how I feel.

 

.

 

.

 

That I just appear so pathetic to her, crawling back to her each time she rejects me.

 

.

 

Because I just… I love her _so much_ , you know? It’s so painful but I want to be with her. I feel like I will do anything just to be with her. That I will fight tooth and nail just to be able to be on the cusp of kissing her again, her lips against mine, and that I can always just be falling, falling…

 

.

 

But… even worse than that… I…

 

.

 

I’m _scared_. I just so afraid that in the end… I won’t do anything.

 

.

 

.

 

That… fear will win out. And Reina will see that. She will see that I’m in love, and that I’m afraid.

 

.

 

And then she decides. And I know how she’ll decide then.”

 

.

 

.

 

“Oh, Kumiko.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

To be able to say that. To tell me that.

 

.

 

You’re the bravest girl I’ve ever known."

 

* * *

 

Hazuki’s is nice. She’s bustling about always these days, getting people over, going over, just hanging about. She keeps busy with people, is the point, it’s what gets her running.

 

Today’s gathering is a rather tiny affair. I’m there to lend support, and so is Midori. Midori’s always there for her.

 

And, there’s Natsuki.

 

Natsuki’s a changed person, these days. I don’t think Sburb’s had a greater effect on anyone else besides her. And maybe, Aoi, but Aoi’s always been… the way she is, it’s just that this universe brings out the worse sides of her, like it does for everyone else.

 

I don’t think I’ve ever seen this side of Natsuki before.

 

She dominates the conversation and the gathering, a twinkle in her eye, charismatic guffaws and terrible jokes and all. She raises a glass of punch and we respond in kind, and it’s almost like she’s a leader in her own right. Like Nozomi and Asuka on a good day. Like Reina could be if her head wasn’t so far up her own ass.

 

“Hey, Kumiko! What’s up?”

 

I don’t know how to tell her what’s up. But I make idle conversation anyway, a blurry affair that just… fades by. Time is an illusion we’ve created and I find myself suspending that construct, the magic circle broken as I disengage from reality. It’s all just so…

 

“…so tomorrow’s our big day, then,” Natsuki grins. She punches me in the shoulder, before finishing her glass. “I gotta get back early, get some shut eye.”

 

“Um, who’s big day?” I blink, full of tact in suggesting that I hadn’t paid the slightest attention to anything before.

 

“Well, ours, duh,” Natsuki laughs. “Us second years’.”

 

“And… what is it you guys are doing?” I ask, nervous laugh matching hers.

 

There is no laughter in her response. But there’s a kind of maniacal intensity, a fire behind her eyes even as her brows furrow in concentration. She replies with a straight face, but not for a lack of eagerness. Natsuki wants me to know how serious she is.

 

_“We’re going to defeat a denizen."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that’s a wrap. arc 3 done and dusted.
> 
> this chapter… it felt a bit like cheating, but i wanted to do something that felt true to an actual conversation, one over the phone. it’s much like the chapter just before the end of the first arc, and revisiting the kumiko/aoi dynamic is sort of a benchmark to see how far we’ve come? it was always going to be the way i wanted to end this arc. and of course, we have two beautiful songs: the first from my favourite film of 2016, Arrival. and the second, a heartbreaking cover by Christina Grimmie. i was super super lucky being able to watch her live for the first and only time she came to my country, and she will be dearly, dearly missed. this one’s for her.
> 
> anyway! exciting, exciting things happening next week. stay tuned. 
> 
> as always, comments are appreciated. if soundscape means anything to you, let me know.
> 
> and thank you for reading my story. it means a whole bunch.


	69. Amaterasu (Nozomi)

[♪] [In The Dark - Max LL](https://maxll.bandcamp.com/track/in-the-dark) [♪]

 

“There she is.”

 

Winding, sprawling, coiled. In the charcoal haze, her serpentine body looks like it extends for at least a hundred feet, maybe longer. Between Yuuko’s dim flame, and my ethereal lantern, there’s not much we can see.

 

But I already have the answers. Amaterasu is by no means the largest denizen, and she’s already fifty two metres long.

 

“I’m starting to think this isn’t such a bright idea,” Yuuko exhales. Her hushed whispers are only subsumed by the movement of Amaterasu’s lungs, the dull shuffling of air funnelling itself through its massive body. Her breaths and the cave’s are one and the same.

 

“We’ll be fine,” I assure her. The elements I’ve so meticulously plotted were moving into place. Natsuki holding her own position with the oni. Kitsune bustling about, sneaking into every crevice they could find. Mizore carving out stretches of tunnels, and collapsing others to fill up where once there was nothing. Yuuko and I here, at the start of a long road, where- “Also, was that a pun?”

 

I can’t see it, but the fact that my skin crawls just a bit suggests that Yuuko’s giving me a death glare, followed by her patented eye roll. “If it took you that long to snuff out my half-hearted attempt at humour, then you’re really way too deep into all this.”

 

“That’s my job,” I shrug. 

 

I’m not sure how Asuka does it. There are certain aspects and classes made for orchestration. Seers and Mages, for one. Heroes of Light and Mind too.

 

But I’m a Knight. 

 

“What do we do now?” Yuuko hisses. “We can’t just wait here the whole day, right?”

 

“We wait,” I whisper, looking out for any telltale sign of Amaterasu’s consciousness. “She’ll come to soon enough.”

 

I can feel Mizore putting on her finishing touches, and intuition maps my blueprints clean into my mind. I go through each of the seven main routes once more in detail, and then a quick gloss over the sixteen other possible backups. My senses are an engine revving up, and I attune myself to as many factors as I possibly can, time starting to become sluggish, dilating as the information overloads and then dumps itself. My brain sifts through the noise and snatches each possible tipping point, dismissing them the moment they become irrelevant. My eyes watch for the cracks in reality, the tiny fractures that will slowly spiral out of control, setting events into motion.

 

Amaterasu’s first five actions I can already see. Everything else is extrapolation, convergence and collapse. We expect all things to follow the path of least resistance, but she’s a denizen. Resistance is their bread and butter - this one especially. When awake, she’ll assume the role of a blind, vengeful goddess with her light stolen, thrashing about wildly without purpose. I can only pray that our contingencies are sufficient. They have to be, they-

 

There, a flicker. A pale flash zips across the corner of my eye, the Kitsune signalling to me that everything’s in place. All the pieces are set, the board ready for the game.

 

And now-

 

I gesture. Let’s wake up the beast.

 

The gleeful fox disappears from view. Without waiting, the ruckus begins. I don’t know what they’re doing, but as Yuuko never fails to complain about, the kitsune are an energetic bunch. Who knows what they’re shape-shifting into, stomping and jumping and knocking about.

 

Yuuko reacts to that, and I can see the flaring up in her disposition. The raise in her eyebrows, the increased tempo of nervous tapping against the inside of her elbow. With each passing second, it becomes tough even for me to keep my anxiety at bay.

 

And then, like the first budding flower after winter, I see it. The first abnormal movement - a twitch at the tip her of tail. Slowly but surely, Amaterasu comes to.

 

[♪] [Dominion - Max LL](https://maxll.bandcamp.com/track/dominion) [♪]

 

The ceiling rumbles, black breaking off from all the activity happening aboveground. The mines where Amaterasu sleeps in aren’t deep, they’re just vast, yet constrained. I can hear it as she reacts to our presence, the elevated heart rate, the volcanic movement of organic fluids rushing through her body, the gurgling of something very large stirring awake. 

 

“It’s you,” I tell Yuuko, no longer bothering to whisper. 

 

She swallows hard, as the swell of activity becomes more and more pronounced, the rhythm of earth giving way to the slumbering beast. It’s all very controlled, each muscle twitching and firing up, each rugged scale and calloused inch of exoskeleton scraping against itself, the grind of keratin against chitin littering the ground with a trillion dead cells. With each minuscule action, the mines respond, locked in a zealous mantra of destruction, the rocks chanting in murmurs as everything begins to crumble.

 

And then something even deeper, more sublime than the bellow of the ocean, more ancient than the primordial music of waves. There are galaxies and stardust churning in Amaterasu’s belly, a sun being birthed from her core, all the molten elements of the earth boiling as the mines react to her, the grey coals against her skin given colour and life, and orange blooming from the ashen white.

 

There’s that fire. The flame that burns, and burns, and burns, until it doesn’t. It has stopped burning for a while now, and now only exist as embers, tiny sparks within the goddess.

 

We’ve come to set it all ablaze.

 

There’s not much room in the mines, but she rises anyway, the ceiling giving way as she flexes her entire length, pushing until she doesn’t feel like pushing. That’s the will of a goddess at her fullest - they stress the system however they want until they decide to retreat, or the system breaks. That’s the kind of power they hold.

 

But these creatures are mortal. 

 

Amaterasu has no eyes. But she can sense us nonetheless, and she can sense that we’re not here to talk. Forces of nature aren’t one for many words either. She faces Yuuko and I, acknowledges us, accepts our challenge.

 

Yuuko doesn’t release her ribbon. She holds her ground, steadfast, stubborn as she is, locking sights in a battle of wits. There is fire orbiting her fingertips now, and a vortex of flames at her feet. The shadows cast by them waver in the darkness, an insight into Yuuko’s internal turmoil.

 

I brace myself, shifting my feet, knees locked for impact but ready to roll with the punches. Light endows me, blessing my armour as the various constructs I’ve brought along start to flank me, all guns ablazing. I draw my sword just as I materialise the scabbard, and hold the weightless weapon with both hands. 

 

It begins.

 

[♪] [A Serpent of the Twilight for Orchestra - Cœur de pirate](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1kEqU558-RA) [♪]

 

“What’s she saying?” I ask Yuuko, as I’m not spending computational power into deciphering the denizen’s incomprehensible garble.

 

“Doesn’t matter,” she replies. “Homegirl’s pissed.”

 

“Let’s stoke that temper,” I jest. “We have too many irons in the fire already.”

 

Amaterasu growls, and rushes right at Yuuko.

 

Imagine a freight train headed straight for you, and the impact that comes with the crash. That was Amaterasu’s first attack, and even as I ducked for cover, I could feel my bones rattling, the sharp pain in my skull from the vibration. Steeling myself, I peek out and see that Yuuko’s made it out okay.

 

Amaterasu’s tail sweeps through a thirty degree arc, smashing against boulders. She reverses its trajectory, the cleared path smoother as the tail lodges itself into the mine walls, acting as an anchor for the rest of its body to flail about. Distended lumps zigzag across Amaterasu’s bulky frame, looking to erupt with magma at any moment. But I know better - I know that layers of earth and inert charcoal have calcified on her skin, and that any pressure would implode on herself and work to our advantage. No, there will be no judgement by fire today.

 

Not from her, anyway.

 

One of my constructs - a prismatic swallow - darts above head, their job to survey and predict. I have a concentrated triangle shield hovering by my left, programmed to take the worst brunt of damage. Amaterasu works her body like a whip, and I can see the loop coursing through her length, a wave building energy as she lashes out once more-

 

She collapses another pathway leading out, the rocks barely missing me, my shield protecting my head, my bird’s iridescent wings flapping as they chirp in distress-

 

And with an incredible speed, find Amaterasu’s head coming straight for me-

 

The shield moves to the front, but it’ll be crushed. I don’t know if I can make it, if I can clear the rubble that follows the aftershock, do I jump left or right, will I need a boost, will-

 

_**Amaterasu!** _

 

_Ah, shit. Too early._ Yuuko’s not supposed to use her ability now.

 

The denizen halts at once, but the momentum of the wind carries forward, and like the crack of a whip, the sonic boom slams me into the wall. I take the blow with grace, ensuring that I don’t so much as get a fracture. At this stage I can only afford bruises at most.

 

"You promised me, Nozomi,” Yuuko shouts. "No casualties!”

 

“There won’t be,” I snap back. “You can’t sustain it for so long, we talked about this!"

 

It doesn’t matter if we show our trump early, since Amaterasu isn’t one for subtlety. This will be a hard a dirty brawl, no doubts about that. But the strain it’d put on Yuuko was why I was supposed to be the one guiding the denizen out of the mines, instead of having Yuuko drag her along by sheer force of will. 

 

Plus, I don’t think holding onto Amaterasu like that will bode well for Yuuko. A battle of attrition is not one we want to have.

 

Amaterasu changes course, setting her sights on the new challenger. If this doesn’t let up-

 

“Dispel it now!” I tell her. “You gotta have faith in me, alright?”

 

Yuuko’s already dodging Amaterasu’s relentless attacks, and the mine looks worse for wear with every passing second. The stubborn girl’s propelling herself with bursts of fire, and we even talked about how we wouldn’t bring up our second trump so early.

 

“Yuuko,” I gnash my teeth, insistent. “Please.”

 

She casts me one glance, and I can see the strain fall away from her face as she arches backwards, Amaterasu’s body missing her as she lies flat on the ground. There. 

 

Now time for me to do my job proper.

 

“Thank you so much,” I say, as I materialise two more swords, and Yuuko hops back to her feet, already getting out of the mines.

 

“I’ll see you on the other side,” she says, before bowing out.

 

Amaterasu attempts to chase, but I send both swords into her, lodging them at the perfect angle to pierce any semblance of skin.

 

She gazes back in my direction, irritated. 

 

“Alright,” I mutter under my breath. “Let’s dance.”

 

My bird swoops down, encircling Amaterasu’s head. I use the opening to dash forward, hopping onto her body - the best place to prevent being hit. Immediately, my remaining constructs anchor my feet to her engorged body like staples, and I bring my body low such that I’m almost hugging her, before anchoring my hands. Lower the center of gravity, and make sure I don’t squirm around like a fool.

 

Amaterasu notices, and uses her tail to carve out chunks of rock to rain down on me, and my shield fends them off admirably. My bird dives towards the tunnel at my two o’ clock, and I begin to chart our route out of here. Because the alternative is that this snake buries the both of us alive in here with all this mindless wiggling about.

 

Again, she lodges her tail into the wall, and begins her work of shaking me off. I brace myself for the acceleration, intuit the direction in which she’s moving, and just as she swings, I create another wall of hard light that her head crashes into. Just as practiced, just as experimented, a lattice structure, hexagons instead of triangles. Mimicking nature, the process of evolution and conservation of surface area - following bees, following carbon nanotubes, graphene sheets the one of the sturdiest materials known to our kind.

 

My calculations were all planned beforehand. Amaterasu’s mass, her rate of acceleration, the force at which she will collide with a given object, and just the appropriate amount of force in order to push her back, without expending too much energy creating hard light. I factor in her disorientation at hurting herself, more swords pricking her to nudge her in one direction or another as I cut off various routes, all the while making sure I don’t get whiplash from the speeds she’s moving at. Hours upon hours of doing the groundwork will pay off, and making sure that I won’t get killed.

 

Even against a brute, information pays off in the end. Why butt heads indefinitely when you can work smart?

 

Amaterasu finds herself within the tunnel my bird went down, and begins thrashing again. The process repeats, and I find myself having to guide her bit by bit, but we’re making progress towards the second phase of our attack.

 

Just a bit longer. And then, the kitsune can take over.

 

I begin scaling up the length of Amaterasu, using swords to dig into her and get a hold as I crawl. It’s as arduous a task as guiding her, but I can multitask, no problem. 

 

The timing of each stab is deliberate, the angle, everything. Amaterasu twists and turns and I avoid getting smashed, avoid getting too close to the head where the kinetic energy would be strongest when she pivots. 

 

And then I feel it. The way space encloses tight around us, the lattice of rock we’ve carefully crafted not taking away but in fact adding towards the structural integrity of the caves. Amaterasu is strong and she can chip away at them, but the tunnel will not collapse. 

 

One last attack, and Amaterasu roars. She’s peeved now, and like Yuuko, I let go, falling with grace.

 

The bird bursts into a dazzle of light, and Amaterasu is blind, but she can sense that surge in brightness. She lunges, and I’m left in the wake, already planning my route out for the final phase of the plan.

 

My arms are aching, my head is spinning, but I came out okay. But I can’t pull all the strings, and like the way my friends have trusted me, I have to trust them to do their job.

 

For now, I’ll do all that I can, and prepare for the final frontier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so the week of amaterasu begins.
> 
> there will be four updates(!!!) with the remaining three being on wednesday, friday, and saturday. just a week of our girls chilling with a snake boss, no big!
> 
> but i guess we finally have our first Big Fight in a world where that's a thing that happens. i hope you enjoy this four chapter special before our fourth arc, and as always, thanks for reading.


	70. Amaterasu (Mizore)

“So, here’s the plan.”

 

[♪] [In C_rcles - Darren Korb](https://a.tumblr.com/tumblr_ousicg2ZSw1vsbbfoo1.mp3#_=_) [♪]

 

I’m underwater, words muted and dampened, my mind swimming in a soup of noises. I’ve shut off, and Nozomi’s just a goldfish opening and closing her mouth, producing imaginary bubbles. 

 

There’s an incessant buzz, almost annoying. I can’t focus on anything…

 

 

...

 

"…Yuuko, you have..."                                               

 

                        …

 

                                                                                            …

 

                                                           "...I don't thin..."

                                                                        

                                                                           "…rally them, organise..."

 

                                    …

 

“…this is where things get messy … … get the o…"

                                                                                                                      ...

 

 

                      “Won’t … I can help with trans…"

 

...

 

_"Mizore?”_

 

One word. One word from her and I’m above water, treading and gasping for air, bleary eyed me no longer seeing a fuzz of an outline but it’s her, Nozomi, and I don’t know how to answer. 

 

Natsuki gets up from a chair, and gently tags me to the side of the room. I’ve… never really spoken with her, I can’t imagine why she’d start now. Just because we’re in the same cohort and club doesn’t mean we have to be chummy.

 

“You alright?”

 

She frowns right after at the rhetorical question, grabbing my shoulder firmly. “Hey, stay with us, yeah? I know things are tough, but we’ll pull through. All four of us.”

 

I can’t even be mad at her as she grins, be upset at the audacity she has to play the good guy here to save the day when she knows nothing, because her positivity is infectious. I feel off and uncomfortable returning the favour, but she makes me feel less bad about myself.

 

She makes me feel like this is genuinely okay.

 

“Alright,” I nod, before walking back to take my seat.

 

“I got your back,” she whispers in my ear, before returning to hers.

 

Nozomi still looks concerned, but continues her brief as though nothing happened. The words don’t connect from time to time, but I find myself able to keep up. However, as time goes on, that hopeful aura Natsuki had inspired me starts to fade, and I feel like everything’s gone wrong again, like I’m slipping...

 

* * *

  

…sliding into chaos, the heavy thrumming in my head taking precedent over all else. My forehead is throbbing with voices, inner demons or just anarchy brewing. Battle's breaking out all around, and I’m spinning in a whirlwind of chatter - is it the kitsune? - as I try to orientate myself.

 

Dreary, turbid colour bleeds into my vision, a swarm of kitsune forming ranks and rushing past me, painting a crescent blur of white in their wake. Other magical foxes are screeching, and they sound closer than they actually are. I press my hands to my ears, as though the noise would explode from within-

 

 

 

The bells are ringing, the entire world is a box and a cosmic baby just is just shaking it, but the baby is real, and we want to kill it and it wants to kill us-

 

"I gotcha!”

 

Huh, I didn’t even realise I was falling.

 

A skeleton in her shape seems to appear in an instant, hard but smooth edges meeting my body. In the obscurity of these tunnels, I can only see the bare outlines, the highlights sans features.

 

Above us, a shimmering bird flutters in circles, surveying for a landing spot.

 

Nozomi's light-clone, or whatever construct it is, lets me down gently. The bird joins us.

 

"Mizo҉r͘'e! Are y ou ͠alr͞ight?"

 

Funny. It seems like she operates through the clone, but speaks through the bird.

 

I shrug, still in a daze. 

 

"Come on, get it tog͟͢et͞h̡̢͜e̶̢r͠͡ r! We need y-"

 

Then her clone shatters, shards of glass spraying all over as I'm knocked off my feet, a wandering vacuum orb sucking me and keeping me afloat. Rude of Amaterasu, if you ask me.

 

And a bad omen for us.

 

The bird on the other hand - also smashed by its body - liquefies and reforms like golden syrup, strands of rainbow string snapping and tangling up again, like stitching flesh together to form a semblance of a bird, before it comes down to my side.

 

"I can't focus h̨ere̷͘. There are o͢t͢her̛̕ ̛thi̷͢ngs̡ ̨͘t͘o͏̧ attend to. Will you b̸͟e̴̡ ͏o̡͠kay?"

 

_"I'll take over."_

 

Natsuki, again. She's wreathed in a halo that cloaks her like a hood, twin arms as large as tree trunks supporting her as she lands by my side. "Come on, let's go."

 

Nozomi's bird salutes with its wing, before heading off to whatever direction of the battle that needs monitoring, a tide that needs turning. Amaterasu's moved on, the kitsune continuing to pile on it.

 

Without a word, Natsuki extends a third arm with her aura, and then she leaps forward, both arms at a gallop, and I let myself go limp. The surroundings fade again, a migraine coming on as Natsuki creates space, hollering instructions that I can't make out. On reflex, my orbs start to materialize once more, spinning around my head.

 

Everything's spinning. If my soul could leave my body, it would just be further thrust into the turbulence of everything. I have no clue what's going on, why I'm here, why-

 

We've caught up, Amaterasu's belly slamming into the ground. There's a crunch of sorts, crispy impact, maybe like if you ate a banana with the skin on? Natsuki digs the hands' fingers into the meat of the body, and more kitsune shriek as they continue their barrage of... whatever. I feel something slick and sticky in the air... sticky's not the right word... slimy? It's splattering everywhere, and just won't get off. Disgusting, like hair wax, like...

 

Oil.

 

Oh yeah, we were supposed to oil up this bad bitch for suntanning at a saloon, huh?

 

Above head, my orbs fuse to form a disc on instinct, sucking falling debris into who knows where, before separating. Natsuki strong-arms me away, and I almost feel the whiplash, like my neck's gonna dislocate, and my head will pop off like those cartoons... oh wait I've never seen cartoons like that, since they would definitely not be appropriate for children's television. But then why would I feel that something like that would be akin to a caricature? Surely-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...bright.

 

It's like I've returned from heaven, and I can see why. Natsuki's enveloped me in her aura, now dispersing, and I suppose it just took the full brunt of Amaterasu's weight.

 

"Mizore."

 

I don't want her calling my name like that. Nozomi does it and it's annoying.

 

"Listen to m̛͞e̕ ."

 

Me, me, me. It's all about me, everyone's such thinking about me. Well then, I can't-

 

A sharp pain.

 

Everything's so blu̵rr̢y͜.  
  
̢͘ ̨͟  
̡  
̵A̴͜h̨h̨͜h, ̸I̢͞ ͏͘c͏͠a̕n'̶͞t͝͏,̡ I͏̧ ̡c͟an͘'t̵͘,̛ I̴.͟.͜.̕  
  
̕͘ ̷̕  
̸̧  
̴.̡̨.̶.͞I ̨c͏a̴͟ņ.̢̨͝ I͡͞͡ ̧͘͢c͢͢ą͞n. I can.

 

_I can._

 

"Feeling better?"

 

Natsuki has a shit eating grin, but now something's changed.

 

I look towards my hands, and I can see why. It's looks as though someone raised the contrast of my skin by ten percent. Like someone made me into a Twilight vampire.

 

"Oh," I reply, dumb. "Some boost you gave me."

 

"It'll wear off," Natsuki waves. "But not before we see this through. We're a team, yeah?"

 

The glowing subsides, but I feel fine. I feel great. Somehow, there's a confidence in me to move on, and my objectives are clear. I'm compelled to do them, not just because I'm stuck in this dank system of tunnels, but because I want to. I can.

 

[♪] [Cerulean (Mameyudoufu Battle Theme Recreation) - 立山秋航](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OztVnnbByBc) [♪]

 

The pulsing in my head from earlier's now focused, driven, directed into a goal. I can feel the power of the void rushing through me, the same way activity surges through these tunnels.

 

I bring out my oboe, and get to work.

 

My technique has never been perfect, but now I can feel the adrenaline feeding into me, my senses enhanced. My fingers fly like never before, and I feel like I could breathe in an entire ocean. My lungs are opened, my lips no longer chapped, and the rhythm soars as I hammer out instruction after instruction.

 

The orbs behave differently from anything I've ever done before.

 

Our attack's second phase is about whittling down Amaterasu, but more importantly, setting the denizen up for our final confrontation once it's clear of the mines. Nozomi will continue to egg it on, but Natsuki and I have to clean up, and assist the true stars in their job.

 

_The kitsune._

 

My orbs form a cradle of sorts, with two of them boring holes into the walls to create a path. Natsuki allows me to do the impossible, and while the abyss is an inhospitable place, there's still room for anyone daring enough.

 

Kitsune pile out of my 'portal', as others jump in, no doubt connecting towards another set of orbs I've left on the outside. And each kitsune's morphed to contain oil with them, whether in their mouths, or turning their bodies into buckets, anything. I'm in charge of transporting, and I haven't been doing a very good job.

 

I continue setting up points like these, connecting them towards the open space where kitsune can continue doing their work, as they hail on Amaterasu, splashing oil, lathering it over its barren, desolate body, and all the while it struggles. It strikes at the kitsune, but they are slippery and retreat towards the cracks and crannies in the rock that Nozomi had me carve out way before. 

 

The tempo increases, and we leverage our momentum to our advantage. Amaterasu's almost drenched now, and there's a certain kind of poetic justice, what we're doing to it. In minutes, it'll be over and it'll be glorious.

 

_And I'll be there to witness it._

 

Natsuki's have her own jolly time with her job. She just seems like she has to be present, making everything seem effortless. She gives me a tiny wave, before ducking behind a rock, out of sight.

 

The chaos works to my advantage now, and I'm above all the havoc now, ushering kitsune to and fro, my orbs protecting them and making paths my destroying rock. There's a lot of destruction today. It'll be for the better.

 

A flash. A flag, waving at us, the signal for the final phase.

 

I grin - when was the last time I smiled? - as the kitsune flee now, through my portals or other means, all scrambling to the outside, towards the final piece of action they'll get. This is their war, more than anyone else's, and I want to do what I can to help.

 

My lips clasped firmly around my mouthpiece, I blow as hard as I can, and the orbs collapse onto me, anything no longer at work revolving around me. And in an act of spite, I send the volley towards Amaterasu, bombarding it with everything I've got.

 

It wails - the first its made all day, and I feel triumphant. I've hurt it. 

 

And time for me to leave as well, to the outside, as Amaterasu clambers through the final turn, a wounded animal seeking respite. It won't.

 

We'll finish this.


	71. Amaterasu (Yuuko)

I remember when they first sung their tragedy to me.

 

[♪] [Louder Than Words - Les Friction](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5MJd0RTOW1Y) [♪]

 

I didn’t know they were capable of such mournful music, melancholic melodies hummed in tandem with their story. You'd think that these epics were merely chanted, poetry without score, but they were songs all the same, lyrical odysseys like Helen and Antigone.

 

The kitsune are creatures of the land. There was no arrival, because they were always there. A playful race content with the little things.

 

Amaterasu was the fire and the flood, the sun brought to earth, a tyrant and a conqueror. While the others incubated in each planet's womb before being birthed and surfacing, Amaterasu came from the heavens, a parasitic alien, the sky thundering down in a meteoric fashion.

 

First came the crash. And then the blaze, as everything around her was reduced to rubble, and then again to ash. She claimed the soul of the land as her own and snuffed it out, replacing the flame with herself. There was no resistance.

 

You see, kitsune are magical creatures. They have ethereal forms, yes, but fundamentally, they are beings of wax.

 

What does wax need in order to remain fluid?

 

Amaterasu ruled for centuries, and then she didn’t. You’d think this would be a call for celebration, but it wasn’t. Kitsune could cope under the embodiment of the sun, because at least there was a sun. There was light, and there was heat. And then she retreated into a stony slumber, and there wasn’t anymore.

 

The planet was cast in a thick darkness, and in the lonely expanse of space, the kitsune could not be heard. No signal, no noise, and the dark is far too cold for any of them to survive. Each passing day, the kitsune marched into the long night, into the gentle goodbye that none of them wanted. They could cast off their corporeal forms, but that took energy to sustain, and kitsune are very energetic.

 

As the planet got cooler, the kitsune that remained as wax got harder. They could no longer move, trapped in a prison of their own body. And then they waited, and waited, and waited.

 

Until I came.

 

* * *

 

The candles flicker around me, each a figure of anticipation, and I know that they are watching. Thousands of kitsune, encased in wax, melting just slightly from my flame. Time to unseat the queen.

 

A bellicose roar rattles from the mouth of the mines, and I can feet the ground quaking beneath my feet, the weight of the denizen slithering across the earth.

 

_She’s here._

 

War drums sound, kitsune rousing themselves to the occasion, the beat and tempo organising them. I spot Natsuki on her perch, eyeing the battle, expectant. Her presence is terrifying and assuring - there are at least a hundred oni with her, a legion of them ready to fight at a moment’s notice.

 

Mizore hobbles out of the cave first, stumbling, but holding steady. She glances back, and gives us a thumbs up, before taking to the sky, a ladder of vacuum orbs keeping her far off the ground.

 

And then Amaterasu comes barreling out, smashing the entrance to the mine as she appears in her full infamy.

 

I steel myself, ribbon unfurling with my hair.

 

**_Amaterasu!_ **

 

With that single shout, there is just her, and there is just me. It’s on.

 

From the corner of my eye, I can see the kitsune piling onto Amaterasu by the hundreds, their long awaited revenge finally come to fruition. I see the oni charging, in squads of five or six, bulky stone bodies grappling a segment of Amaterasu each, attempting to pin her down.

 

I see Nozomi above the chaos, in a jetpack, hollering instructions and fighting too. Not so much a commander leading the charge but one who assists from the backlines, as she concentrates focal points of light into blazing lances, and hurls them at her target. But I know that when she’s needed, she will take up the sword and rush into the inferno of battle.

 

And Amaterasu doesn’t respond to any of them. She can’t. And I can’t worry about them, either. There is only us.

 

She charges, and I break into a full sprint as well, my left hand wreathed in flames, as I pounce to meet her.

 

One of Nozomi’s clones dives in, nudging me by a full two metres before shattering on impact with Amaterasu’s face, as I drag my left hand down the length of her cheek. 

 

My feet find themselves on her body, before I’m tossed into the air, Amaterasu flailing and leaving me in free-fall, as Natsuki’s aura catches me, and flings me back towards my opponent. With my ribbon, I root myself around her torso, and swing, as she turns back to face me, and I prepare for the next onslaught.

 

This time, we bring the fire and the flood. Amaterasu is slick, and I can already catch the streak I made earlier to be burning. It’s a small gash, but imagine instead of bleeding blood, your wounds spill out flames. Amaterasu screams as I haul myself up, kicking the air with flames at my heels to find enough height to run on Amaterasu’s head, down her back again, burning her as much as I can.

 

Other segments of Amaterasu have started to catch fire as well, from Nozomi, from the kitsune, from whoever. All as planned. I anchor myself, and swing upwards once more, as close to her head as possible.

 

Her third attack now, as her tail sweeps across the ground, attempting to get me, but I’m far too nimble. She changes tactics, digging a sizeable portion of her lower end into the ground, and then she begins rising, higher, higher-

 

Gravity claims me, but I use this to my advantage. I slide down her body, making sure to leave a trail of fire in my wake, the friction of the ribbons halting my acceleration. I make it down to the ground running, but realise that it would take a lot of athletic skill to acrobatically manoeuvre myself back to the top, where she’d take the most damage.

 

I can almost spot a grin as she stares at us, thirty metres above the ground.

 

And then I spot the orange building in her mouth.

 

“Run!”

 

We knew this would happen. Almost all denizens are capable of breathing fire, and we’d just awakened the latent ability of the sun.

 

Natsuki’s aura forms a dome around me as the sea of flame comes from up high, and even then I can feel the searing heat, like my insides were melting away. When the dome dissipates, I’m standing in an untouched circle, while all around me is a ring of scorched earth. I see candles not just melted, but charred into a crisp, and I feel the bile rising from how many lives were lost.

 

Once more, Nozomi’s light clone swoops in, just as Amaterasu lets herself fall, and slams right into the earth.

 

The impact is of a magnitude I’ve never experienced before. She straight up craters through the ground, as though turning concrete into cement, earth just breaking apart into tessellations that seem like porridge and soup, and the decimated land doesn’t settle as much as remain in ragged ruins. 

 

In ten seconds, Amaterasu immolated countless kitsune, pummelled our battlefield into ashes, and extinguished all the flames on her body in one fell swoop. Wind can be such a bitch.

 

Back to square one.

 

Her tail burrows out, and then it slices through the air, in an unnecessarily wide arc. It tramples through the hordes of retreating kitsune, as Natsuki takes over, her aura guiding me back towards the action. She’s found a workaround - she can only target me, but she can make collateral damage so immense, her actions disregarding anyone in the way that it’s just as good as fighting us all.

 

**_AMATERASU!_ **

 

I channel every ounce of willpower I have into that one word, my voice hoarse and parched even though I didn’t so much scream as project myself into intimidating her as best as I can. As she uncoils to meet me, I spot the smashed remains of sandy stone, and now oni are among the casualty count.

 

Gnashing my teeth, I realise a wave of fire right onto her face, and she reacts by attempting to shake it off. But now, despite her devastating attack, our counterattack has increased in intensity as well, and I spot undeterred kitsune clambering onto her body, continuing with the oil, with the wax, with the flame, as Amaterasu begins to light up like a Christmas tree, like a blighted epidemic crawling through her body.

 

She screams, and flails, and her face, now just ten metres away from me, contorts whatever it can into pure hatred.

 

Amaterasu lunges, and I let myself fall, as war erupts around me. She’s chasing me, as I keep my distance, ribbons keeping my mobility high, and I trust my allies to do what they do best. I soar, sending volley after volley of flame after her, imbuing my ribbons with fire as I slice into her, carving my own rage on her body.

 

I spot more oni pouncing on her, holding her down, and Natsuki coordinates their efforts, her own aura enveloping them, her gigantic arms covering a tenth of Amaterasu. She screeches, and tumbles, slamming herself onto the jagged rocks she herself created.

 

About a third of her body’s up in flames now, and navigating her length becomes that much more perilous. But each abrasion I get only riles me up further, and I continue attacking with ferocity, especially now that she’s down, _I can end this_ , and prepare to go in for a decisive blow, fire and blood and the fury of hell-

 

She jerks, with a force so violent that the oni are flung into the air. She uses her core as a fulcrum, both ends just coming up such that her body twists into a U-shape. Natsuki’s aura practically tears, and while I manage to dodge her head, the lower part of her body comes hurtling towards me.

 

It hits like a battering ram, even after being hampered by Natsuki. The bones in my right arm feel like they’ve become jelly, and useless, and I stifle back my tears for as long as I can, my left hand holding onto my ribbon for dear life, as I make one last swing into nothing, and-

 

“Got you!”

 

Natsuki’s hope aura feels like a marshmallow pillow, even as I tumble onto it, limbs splayed. The pain hasn’t set in yet, the shock of the impact still getting to me, the trauma paralysing me. But I still have to fight Amaterasu. I need to get to her, to finish her-

 

“How is she?”

 

Nozomi’s bird flitters to our side, and as I tilt my head, I can see Nozomi already drawing her sword, ready to charge in, keep momentum up. It should be me out there. We can’t lose this.

 

“I can patch her up,” Natsuki assures her, and her aura wraps around my dead arm like a cocoon, turning it into a fluffy bolster, and I can feel nice things, a break from… I was going at Amaterasu, I _need to fight her_ -

 

“Settle down,” Nozomi says, but I’m getting antsy. Amaterasu calls out to me, and I’m drawn to her. No one can keep her at bay. Only I can. I must be the one to end this, I need-

 

The blood is pumping through me, and my ribcage feels tight and my head light. And then, I can feel my arm again, and I’m on my feet, reorienting myself, flames flickering at my fingertips.

 

“It’s the final stretch,” Natsuki tells me, concerned. "Can you go on?"

 

I’m still in a daze. I nod once, before the fury ignites in me once more, the cry for blood, and Amaterasu and I lock eyes.

 

One final dance.

 

I leap off the platform of white, and I feel every single scar I’ve gained in this battle opening up at once. It burns, but that’s exactly what I need, and it’s like every single vein has burst, and all my limits are being lifted together, and a surge of flame builds in my arms, and I rocket straight towards Amaterasu.

 

As I fly upwards, I spot Mizore falling for just a second, her orbs coming to her aid, and I realise that she’s been in the thick of it too. And then, three large spears pierce straight into Amaterasu, locking her into place. She shrieks, and I see Nozomi hacking and slashing, and everything is burning, burning-

 

Natsuki. I see her one last time, pausing for a split second, and she looks like she has everything under control. I could’ve imagined it, but I swear she gives me a thumbs up, and a wink. 

 

Then, I lose myself.

 

I detonate my body, right in Amaterasu’s face, flame expelling in a sphere of brilliance, and I get to work, watching the fire spread, grow, eating away at her, uninhibited. She continues attacking, but each swipe becomes less intense, each lunge more sluggish. She opens her mouth for a breath of fire and I feed it back to her, and watch as she implodes, almost choking on her own element.

 

My right hand extends itself, latching onto her underbelly, and I pull myself up onto the dying serpent, running across our sea of flames, watching her viking funeral come to fruition, burning her as she screams in protest. Everything is glowing, white on yellow on embers of red and orange and she struggles now, trying to run, attempting to shed her skin and shred her body at her restraints but there is nowhere to go.

 

I find her neck, where her head ends and her body starts, as she begins her final attempt, a frenzied floundering, as she thrashes across the ground, covering a good hundred, two hundred meters, but she carries the war with her. There is fire and judgement, and it is coming for her, as the oil does its work, as the wax does its work, as the earth catches her and receives her, and her body begins to dull even amongst the dazzling flames, and she slumps, crying out for mercy.

 

She stares without sight, and I gaze back, my message louder than words, and the fire forms a hurricane around me, as she rears up, one last time-

 

I don’t let her. Not this time. I swing, one round to create a path for my cloth, my ribbons forming a noose around her neck.

 

And on the second rotation, I come down hard. I drag her, and although I know that rationally, a girl under fifty kilograms cannot possibly have the physical strength to bring down a giant of over five hundred tons, I’m the one bringing her defeat.

 

She resists, one final time. Her head jerks, an almost pathetic splutter, and it lifts me high enough so that I’m standing on her neck.

 

You want to _go up? Fine._

 

I pull back, like the reins of a horse, and watch as she goes down, her body slamming with a finality, a thud as the waves of dust ripple out from beneath her, and Amaterasu’s corpse lights up the planet for all to see.

 

_It’s over._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update stuff: i have to apologize for the super late updates! the adventure zone finished, i got sidetracked, i have an essay due tomorrow, but all these are excuses in the grand scheme of getting this climactic chapter out. i hope it's worth it!
> 
> If I had a choice, Louder Than Words would’ve been the only song I’d have chosen for the entire Amaterasu battle. But I wanted the first ‘boss fight’, so to speak, to be an epic encounter, a weighty fight that spanned across multiple viewpoints, to capture the gravity of it. If Soundscape’s ever given an ‘anime adaptation’ then Louder Than Words would fit it entirely. But it’s not, so the song’s been reserved for the climax.
> 
> One more chapter to wrap up the Week of Amaterasu. And then we’re into our fourth arc. Thank you for reading my story.


	72. Amaterasu (Natsuki)

[♪] [次の戦い - 林ゆうき](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F7B4KgUxxUs&index=23&list=PLQR2qBL5SjzdKEuvr8w5MntxYlsIQbpVu) [♪]

 

_Victory._

 

Streaks of fire twirl like ribbons into the sky, and then a single column of flame spirals upwards, as the darkness lifts, the inky smog a bad dream of the past. Kitsune parade about and kitsune cheer, as light graces the planet once again, not with a sun, but with an altar coiled up and resigned to its fate.

 

Colour flickers into the land, and we watch as charcoal gives way to rhodonite and padparadscha, breathing vibrant new life into a desert of orange and pink and yellow. All these beautiful hues leak like crisp, powdery sand scattered across the earth, in glorious view for the first time.

 

Yuuko’s taking it all in, her chest still heaving, her body a map of burns and cuts and I just want to kiss her. She’s worked so hard for this, and she’s earned it. She deserves this victory more than any of us here.

 

Nozomi lets out a loud whoop, as she pulls us in for a group hug, squishing us between her arms. Mizore lets out the most uncomfortable giggle, before slipping away, content on her own. When she releases us, I realise what wide shoulders Nozomi has now, her back a solid mass of muscles.

 

“Aw man,” Nozomi grins, running her fingers through her hair. “We really did it!"

 

“We did,” I beam, as the flame crackles behind us, and the kitsune continue shrieking, thrilled to be alive, to be free.

 

Yuuko’s still speechless, as though it hasn’t settled in. She gazes dumbfounded at the smokeless monument of Amaterasu’s burning corpse, as the kitsune dance around it.

 

“Hey,” I remind her gently, arm on her shoulder. “We did it.”

 

She tilts her head a fraction, and her mouth creeps into a weary grin. “I know."

 

Her fingers find her way to my hand dangling at the side. Yuuko gives me a light squeeze, and it’s like a jolt coursing through my body, adrenaline soaring as I flash back a giddy smile at her.

 

And because I am the biggest idiot in the world, I break off, sprinting across the orange sand, screaming at the top of my lungs, releasing every last drop of emotion I’ve had in me.

 

“WE DID IT! WE FUCKING DID IT!”

 

My aura goes ecstatic, intertwining and forming branches for me to run upwards on, before it culminates into a white carpet of sorts, and I ride the natural high into the air, soaring above the ground, and I spot Nozomi in the air too, laughing as the wind embraces her, and she dives back towards the rose gold sea of sand beneath her.

 

I chase her, and our hands meet, first a fist bump, and then both hands reach out to hold each other, and we’re celebrating in glee, spinning each other, gliding against the most beautiful backdrop in my entire life, and it’s all been worth it.

 

_We can topple giants. We can defeat gods._

 

It’s possible, and it sure feels fucking good.

 

* * *

There’s no official ceremony or after party. We just do whatever we want, and the kitsune find themselves re-exploring a home they thought they had lost to time. Mizore slinks off after giving herself a pat on the back, and Nozomi decides that she could use a good nap after snuggling up with a bottle of warm Ribena.

 

I’m just content to savour this with Yuuko, as she lounges on the balcony of her penthouse, leaning out and admiring her planet born anew.

 

“It’s crazy,” she whispers, and she’s still caked in soot and grime. I offered to patch her up, get her a change of clothes, but she prefers it this way. “All this time, it really looked like… that. And not some inscrutable, shitty blob of darkness you couldn’t see five feet beyond.”

 

“We can all appreciate the makeover,” I grin, sipping on milk laced with honey, munching down some crackers. “It’s exotic and beautiful.”

 

_Kind of like you,_ I almost say, but I bite my tongue. It’s a joke, but if I sound like I’m complimenting her in the least bit she’ll never let it go for weeks.

 

“It’s a different world now,” she says. “A different world needs a different name.”

 

I sit up in my sun chair. “You can do that? Is that allowed..?”

 

Yuuko shrugs. “Why not? Metamorphosis is par the course for Sburb, I suppose. We are meant to grow into our idealised forms, informed by the classpects. I don’t see why our lands can’t do the same.”

 

“Okay… so we’re changing from the Land of Kitsune and Candles to… Land of Desert and… Fire?”

 

“The land has _always_ belonged to the kitsune,” Yuuko sighs. “That will never change. They and the candles were one and the same, and now there’s no need for candles, for any of this. I’m thinking of a… simpler time, one where the land wasn’t defined by the kitsune. They’re just… here, you know?”

 

“And what inspired title do you have of a nostalgic land you’ve never witnessed before?” I tease, smirking.

 

Yuuko pauses for a moment, and lifts her chin. I can see her sightline, drawn to the single most prominent new feature of her land, still burning, and I get the feeling that it’ll the flames won’t be going out for a very, very long time.

 

“It’s… the Land of the Burning Bush."

 

“Burning Bush?” I scoff, sputtering. “That’s what you’re calling it?"

 

Yuuko frowns. “I don’t choose the name. I just know.”

 

“Well, Sburb has a mighty fine way of naming things if they need a bush to be burning,” I cackle. “Speaking of which, has the fight with Amaterasu offered free services in burning your-“

 

“You disgusting little pervert!” Yuuko screeches, as she slaps me hard on the thigh, leaving a red mark as I recoil. “How. Could. You. Think. Of-"

 

“Okay, okay!” I surrender. “Geez… but seriously. It’s not even a bush.”

 

“It’s a metaphor,” Yuuko says, and she shoots down my sneaking grin with a death glare. “Most things here are anyway, in the most pretentious way possible. We just have to deal with it. Something biblical or another, if I remember correctly.”

 

“Thankfully none of us are really religious,” I shrug, my voice almost sing-song. “It would be such a shame to have our beliefs reduced to mere myth, as a literary device seeking something deeper.”

 

Yuuko chuckles at the joke. “Well… religions are built on stories, in the end, regardless of whether they are true or not. With Aoi-senpai, I think we can put some of those stories to… rest…”

 

The mood changes, and Yuuko appears crestfallen, forlorn. She turns away from the scenery, almost retreating into herself, walking back into the penthouse.

 

“Hey,” I ask, getting up and following her. “What’s wrong?”

 

“N… nothing,” she sniffs, and I can hear her shaky exhale as she wipes away a tear. “It’s just… don’t you… feel it too? You had… losses… fighting for me… and oh no… you had losses…”

 

She hangs her head, and I offer her a tissue from the table. Yuuko blows into it, and I can tell that this is really eating at her.

 

“I don’t… get it..?”

 

Yuuko looks at me like I’m mad. “I knew you were callous, but have you forgotten so quickly? I saw the remains of the oni, Natsuki, they were smashed and gone, and-“

 

“Woah! Slow down cowgirl,” I stop her, giving her another tissue. “That’s why you’re distressed? I… I patched them up in no time, after we won.”

 

It takes Yuuko a moment. “You… what?”

 

“Hope powers?” I say, waving my jazz hands. “Making the impossible possible? Come on, we’ve been through this-“

 

“Life is not your domain!” Yuuko snaps. “That’s way too overpowered an ability, I can’t believe-“

 

“Okay well, I’m not sure about us humans,” I start, throwing up my disclaimer. “But I’m intimately connected to the oni through my aura, yeah? Their gems and all, they resonate with me. As long as their gems remain intact - and it’ll take a lot more than a single Amaterasu smash - I can piece them back together no problem. I’m not sure about your… kitsune though…”

 

Her eyes light up. “Could..! …could you at least _please_ try?” she asks, almost reluctant. “It… it would mean a lot to me…”

 

I know it would. I can see the hope in her eyes, and that’s what I’m here to bring. There’s no question as to what I’m gonna do.

 

“I’ll do what I can, no promises,” I assure her. “But you know what? For now, we should celebrate.”

 

Yuuko wipes her cheek with the back of her palm. “Yeah… yeah. We should. I’m sure they wouldn’t want to see me looking down like this.”

 

I stand up, and offer my hand. “My lady.”

 

She swats it away, sassing me with her signature look, before getting up herself. “I’ll take that offer next time, but now I’m good.”

 

“I’m hurt,” I mock, making a show of rubbing my hand and looking dejected, but there’s a playful grin creeping back on Yuuko’s lips, and I can’t help but smile along. Her words echo in my ears as she races me to the bottom of her towering apartment, as we rush to join the kitsune, the rest of the day ours.

 

_Till next time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so a battle ends, and a victory for our girls.
> 
> next chapter, we start the fourth arc proper! as always, thank you for reading my story.
> 
> till next time.


	73. 侘寂 Quartet 4.1.1 (Yuuko)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, from the fourth arc onwards, soundscapes will be portrayed a little differently. there will just be a [♪] symbol you can click on, and all song credits will be in the notes after the chapter has ended. just to recap
> 
> [♪] - normal listening instructions  
> {♪} - listen to the song till the end, regardless of how many words are left  
> <♪> \- stop reading, just listen until the song finishes, then continue reading

“Can you two just… I don’t know."

 

[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FntlV3Qhr3Y)

 

Of the three kitsune that barged into my house on the first fateful day, two have continued to stick around. I don’t play favourites, but this pair have coopted my house as their own, making themselves as comfortable as can be. It’s like having two magic dogs as pets, the insufferably adorable kind.

 

“Nakaseko!” I shout. “Nakagawa! Don’t-! Please, the vase is meant for flowers, not… chocolate… goldfish…”

 

One of the twins dives out, assuming said chocolate goldfish form, water spilling out and staining the wooden drawer said vase sits on, and sticks their tongue out at me. It's Nakagawa, always the more mischievous of the two, harder to reason with than their older sibling. It’s not that they’re babies who don’t know better - these trickster creatures are highly intelligent. Telling them might not cease their shenanigans, but I feel compelled to anyway.

 

It’s only been three days since Amaterasu’s defeat, and… things look like they’re settling in for the long haul. It’s peaceful, not that we’ve been at perpetual war, but everyone’s a lot more carefree. Everything seems a lot more carefree, but also… aimless? It’s like that moment after exams, when you’re relieved and happy that you’ve accomplished something, but also searching for what to do next, how to spend your time.

 

As for me, I’ve mainly spent my time recuperating: jamming on the guitar and trumpet, watching movies, baking sweet treats.. I’m still aching all over, and the blisters are taking their time to heal. Natsuki’s offered time and time again to patch me up, even Haruka-senpai’s asked, but I’ll turn them down each time. These bruises and scars are the mark of my struggle, the sores that plague my lithe frame are evidence of the effort I put in. It might be masochistic, but I want to savour the aftermath of this something great that we did. That I did.

 

Nakaseko perches themselves around my neck, stretching out and dispelling their ethereal form, and they feel like a gloopy mass of wax. In its semi-solid state, it’s actually fairly comfy, and they curl up until they’re like a travel-pillow.

 

My laptop loops a soothing track of acoustic guitars, and I let the hearty, warm melodies carry me away as I lean back in my chair, letting the cozy afternoon claim me...

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Then, the doorbell rings, and I’m shook.

 

[[♪]](https://tobyfox.bandcamp.com/track/oh-dungeon)

 

"We! Have! _Guests!_ ” I screech.

 

I jump out of my chair, scrambling to my feet, Nakaseko rudely awaking and responding with a pained yelp.

 

“I’m so sorry!” I apologise. They’ve always been more sensitive than other kitsune. And then my midday crisis resumes. "Oh shit oh no, it’s today?” I mutter, panicking. "Argh..! I didn’t look at the clock, I don’t know-!”

 

“Yuuko? Are you awake?”

 

Kaori senpai’s pleasant, mellow voice rings through the intercom, along with the muffled raps of her knuckles on the door.

 

I look at my insufferable little children, and clap my palms together, placing them close to my forehead in fervent prayer.

 

“Please, _please_ behave."

 

I dash to the main door, taking the spiral staircase down three steps at a time. “I’m coming!” I holler, and I know that even if they can’t hear my unnaturally projected voice, they would feel my presence and intent. Perks of being a Hero of Rage.

 

My fingers are on the door handle when I spot Nakagawa peeking from behind, Nakaseko trailing not far behind.

 

“You need to go!” I shoo them away, voice shrill. “ _Hide!_ "

 

Nakagawa continues scampering about, and I give them my most intense, smouldering look, almost threatening. I would use my ability if it came down to it, and they know it. None of us would like that, so they amscray the moment I gave my warning. 

 

Then, I check my hair and ribbon one more time, put on my winning smile, and open the door.

 

“Hi!” I greet, looking completely okay and not at all frazzled.

 

[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kss5mEWOpUU)

 

“Congratulations on your victory,” Kaori beams, raising a fruit basket, with excellent calligraphy on the accompanying card. You’d almost think I was in a hospital or something. Reina gives a tiny wave behind her, looking like she didn’t know if she wanted to be here.

 

If I remember correctly, Natsuki let slip to Nozomi (and also me) who told Haruka in passing who asked if Kaori knew about it, that the euphoniums had their section outing. Being section leader, Kaori wouldn’t stand for not attempting some kind of cohesion for the band’s star divas.

 

So here we are, at our section gathering, because trumpets are too cool for outings.

 

“Thanks for coming,” I say, still attempting to hide the fact that I’m out of breath and my heart’s thumping faster than during one of our training sessions. “Would you all-“

 

“I’ll handle preparations,” Kaori assures me, placing her hand on my shoulder. “It’s the perfect time of the day for some fresh vitamin C, don’t you think? If you’ll introduce your kitchen to me and lend me one of your cute aprons, I’ll get started on cutting the fruit-“

 

Not much room for me to argue there. I nod, mute, and after directing Kaori to her station, find myself face to face with a Kousaka Reina who has no idea what to do in my living room.

 

“I guess er,” I start, gesturing. “We could sit.”

 

“Let’s,” she replies, her back ramrod straight even as she seats herself on my couch.

 

I can almost hear the wind whistling, and then stop, not even a draft coming in from my windows, and I know it’s Reina’s doing, even if subconsciously. The first bead of sweat start to trickle down my temple and I begin fanning myself, wondering how to break the silence.

 

“What was it like?”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Huh, I didn't expect her to be the one initiating conversation.

 

There’s a certain hunger in Reina’s eyes as she starts to lean forward, and I can feel the breeze reentering my house. “Fighting a denizen? Defeating one?”

 

“Oh,” I chuckle, turning to one side to show my shoulders and arms. “Well, you get beat up pretty bad, but otherwise it’s probably one of the toughest things I’ve ever done.”

 

It seems like she’s hanging on every word. “Let’s just say when Amaterasu’s body went up in flames, it was amazing,” I grin. "Exclamations get thrown around quite a bit, but trust me when I say that the exhilaration and relief were unparalleled.”

 

A tiny fraction of a smile breaks on Reina’s face, and then she leans back into the couch. “Your planet’s a sight to behold. When I first saw the images it looked so drab and boring, but now it’s stunning. It has a palette like nothing else in this universe."

 

"Why thank you,” I reply, not expecting the compliment. “I don’t blame you, I was in quite the disbelief myself when I realised that my land was perpetually dark."

 

“I was speechless when I got here just now,” Reina confesses. “The change just left… it brought out such a visceral reaction from me that I can’t explain.”

 

“Well, I’m glad that the work we’ve done managed to inspire you,” I grin. “But it was a team effort, and a team triumph. There would’ve been no way if us second years did it alone.”

 

Reina’s expression visibly sours, but before I can address it, there’s a plop sound from behind me.

 

I hear the sound of moaning, and as I spot the kitsune rolling on the ground I realise it must’ve fallen off the shelf while sleeping.

 

" _Nakaseko!_ ” I hiss. The clueless kitsune tilts their head and yawns at me.

 

"Did someone call me?” Kaori says from the kitchen, the percussion of the knife tapping the wooden chopping board peppering the scene.

 

Reina raises her eyebrows at me in amusement, remaining tight lipped.

 

“N-nothing..!” I shout back, just as Nakaseko rolls into sight.

 

“You named one of your pet kitsune after Kaori?” Reina mouths. “How cute.”

 

I have no time for embarrassment, despite my face undoubtedly morphing into a blaring tomato. I need to remedy this, and Kaori cannot find out that I’ve-

 

“Bon appetit!”

 

Kaori arrives from the kitchen, holding with both hands a tray with three clay bowls, the pink matching her borrowed strawberry apron. There’s a myriad of colour peeking out from the tiny mountains on each bowl, and just as Kaori sets the fruits down, she spots Nakaseko giving an adorable wave at her.

 

“Oh, who’s this cute little fox?” Kaori croons.

 

And then I hear my sound system coming to life, a high-pitched note raising the curtains of pandemonium.

 

[[♪]](https://youtu.be/Ahhxk3uZE2g?t=4)

 

The insolent child swaggers into the room as the Linkin Park song plays, _I cannot believe this is happening_ , complete with shades, snapback and a golden chain hanging from their neck. 

 

And then they open their mouth, wailing incomprehensible lyrics.

 

"Nakagawa..!” I start, gnashing my teeth together. Even in her absence, the spectre of Natsuki continues to haunt me. This just shaved off a good decade from my lifespan. I go through each stage of grief until I cycle back to the beginning, I should be frothing with rage but I’m just dumbstruck at this level of social suicide. I feel numb all over, fuck the shitty pun.

 

To add insult to injury, Nakaseko chimes in from the floor, and the both of them form the most horrible duet I’ve ever heard.

 

When the chorus drops, it’s utter chaos. There’s screaming, as though the kitsune have morphed different vocal chords all at once to create something truly magical, if you can qualify exceedingly unimaginable levels of ‘bad’ as a miracle. 

 

“You’re fucking embarrassing your mother, you know that?” I whisper, thumping my forehead against my clenched fist and hoping that I’d just die right now.

 

Nakaseko tugs at me, having flopped over to my side, sensing my upset and doing what they can to apologise and show concern.

 

“Thank you, but I think the damage done is irreparable.”

 

When the song eventually ends, not more than a minute but easily the most painful, humiliating minute of my life, _maybe I’d rather get burned by Amaterasu than sit through that again_ , there’s a beat of silence.

 

And then Reina laughs.

 

She loses it, howls even, clapping her hands in delight even as Kaori just sits there, smiling, never judgemental, a cinnamon roll of all that is good in this world. I don’t deserve having a senior like that.

 

Reina continues laughing, until they almost become choked, strangled sounds, one hand clutching her stomach.

 

“I needed that,” she grins, shedding a tear and wiping it away. “That was amazing.”

 

“Good use of the word,” I mumble, but even through my bitterness, as Nakagawa cackles and zips away out of side, Nakaseko lying in my lap, the negativity of it all fades away real quick. Reina’s laughter was probably the most honest, most vulnerable that I’ve ever seen her, and I’m reminded that she’s just another girl a year younger than me, and it somehow feels good having bonded over that, being able to break her shell, see her happy, even at my expense?

 

Maybe this section gathering wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

 

“Well then,” Kaori pipes up, fork clinking against her bowl to get our attention. “Fruits, anybody?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter’s soundscapes:
> 
> 1\. Dogsong (Acoustic Cover) - toby fox, covered by The Team Players  
> 2\. Oh! Dungeon - toby fox  
> 3\. 一緒に行こうぜ - 横山克 (Shigatsu wa Kimi no Uso Soundtrack)  
> 4\. Numb (Animal Cover) - Linkin Park, arranged Insane Cherry 
> 
> with that out of the way, welcome to the fourth arc.
> 
> our arc title can be confusing at first glance. 侘寂, romanised as wabi-sabi, is a worldview in japanese aesthetics centred on the acceptance of transience and imperfection (lifted 100% from wiki). what does this mean? we’ll find out together!
> 
> as for quartet… i’m gonna spoil this for you. this is the second years’ arc. yup, we’ll just be focusing on the group who hasn’t been given that much attention as a whole (and the third years don’t matter whoops nah i love them all). prepare for..? i don’t know. keep reading to find out.
> 
> anyway this chapter: trumpet section… gathering! mother of doggos! everything is still smiles and rainbows!
> 
> thank you for reading my story. i’m so grateful to all of you who’ve stuck with me for the ride so far. i promise things will only get better.


	74. 侘寂 Quartet 4.2.1 (Natsuki)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! i’m not dead! i hope!  
> enjoy this chapter, and there’ll be more at the bottom.

[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DSukykPpN7g)

 

Back in high school, I couldn't read my notes for more than a few minutes on my bed without sleeping.

 

This excerpt from a journal, I can get behind. I've been flipping through their pages for almost an hour now, and every detail is a delicious morsel.

 

“Where do you even get these?”

 

Nozomi stretches as she enters my room, sleeping bag trailing behind her. She’s crashed for eighteen hours a day since Amaterasu. I’ve just been more energised than ever.

 

“Don’t tell me,” she says, holding a finger up to stop me, and then using the same hand to scratch her head and smoothen out the creases from her bed hair. “Asuka. It’s always Asuka. She’s got her grubby prints over everything.”

 

“Not wrong,” I grin, still laid-back and relaxed as my eyes trawl through the stream of words.

 

“So,” Nozomi says, shedding her cocoon of sheets and leaning in. “Whatcha reading?”

 

I tilt the book towards Nozomi, the brief glance enough for her to glean the information for her to piece the puzzle together.

 

"The Horae," I explain anyway. "A triple goddess denizen, of course with three heads. This is the account of a Prince of Life battling her."

 

Nozomi frowns. “There are few reasons why you’re being so studious all of a sudden, and I’m not sure I’m liking those reasons.”

 

“It’s already been three days,” I snap back. “Any longer, and-"

 

“Yuuko’s not fully healed yet,” Nozomi sighs. "Mizore's... we have things to settle. And we haven't done enough prep work for the next denizen. I don't get why you're so impatient."

 

I shake my head. “It’s about momentum!” I pound my fist into my palm. “That’s the whole point! News reverberates around the Incipisphere, and these god-like creatures can be brought down. While the memory of the battle is still fresh in our head, we should strike when they least expect us to-“

 

“We’re not prepared for a second raid! As I’ve said, the groundwork-"

 

“You’ve done preliminary prep for all of the second years’ denizens, right?” I shoot back. “We’re not touching Mizore’s for now, so Cetus is out. You have a weird obsession about not setting foot on your planet, so we don’t have to slay Typheus. Which leaves-“

 

Nozomi sighs. “Tsukuyomi.”

 

I hold the book by the spine, shaking it a little. “What do you think I’m doing?”

 

“Education illuminates solutions to problems,” Nozomi replies. “I doubt you’ll find anything in there about him though."

 

“Mysterious as the dark side of the moon,” I whistle. “As a moon deity, Tsukuyomi sure lives up to the adage."

 

“For the record, I still think it’s too soon,” Nozomi chides. “You can’t have your cake and eat it too.”

 

"Not if I bake it,” I snap back. "It's my denizen, so i’ll take point.”

 

Nozomi pinches the bridge of her nose. “You’re becoming so much like Asuka it’s annoying. That hubris.”

 

“I don’t mean to be cocky, but Amaterasu wasn’t my fight,” I defend, shrugging. “So I supported. Denizens are meant to challenge their respective heroes. I’d never take that away from Yuuko. I’m not saying I can take down Tsukuyomi alone - but rather that I’m uniquely suited to defeat him the same way Yuuko faced down Amaterasu.”

 

With another sigh, Nozomi falls back onto my bed beside me. “I just hope you know what you’re doing, because I sure don’t.”

 

“Yes you do!” I insist. “We still make a legendary team, working together seamlessly such that we’re a unit. Each one of us is integral.”

 

“Pray tell,” Nozomi grins, eyes closed and sinking her weight into my mattress.

 

I punch her lightly on the thigh. “Yuuko brings focus,” I begin. “There’s no one who can best her in a one-on-one, at least that’s how her abilities work. She takes down our largest targets, drawing away their precious attention and giving us space to work. She intimidates, she can make even denizens think twice, and Amaterasu already brought the most firepower."

 

“Mizore’s support,” Nozomi continues. “The Bard is an extremely passive role, and the aspect of Void more passive still. She controls gravity, setting up systems that facilitate breaking or break themselves, all to our benefit.” There’s a flash of concern on her face. “But the Bard is a wild card. They are traditionally unpredictable… often said to be the deciding factor when an engagement is neck to neck.”

 

She looks to me, and I can see nights of sleeplessness and worry. “I don’t know what to make of her, Natsuki.”

 

I don’t know how to reply. All I can do is put on a brave face as I take her hands in mine, and let the energy surge through me.

 

“Well… I inspire.” As I say those two words, I feel reality shift around me, my words rooting themselves into the fabric of the universe. “I bring the power. If there’s anything that needs to be done, I’ll strong arm the solution into reality. Anything you all can’t do, I’ll fill in the gaps.”

 

[[♪]](https://soundcloud.com/griffinmcelroy/story-and-song-1)

 

“And you,” I continue, not giving Nozomi any time to interrupt. I boop her on the nose, leaning in. “You’re the brains. The leader. You have the information, and you consolidate that, and give us direction."

 

"I’m not-“ she begins protesting.

 

"We all know that you’d have been Haruka’s successor,” I press the issue. "Even Asuka acknowledges that.”

 

“I’m the strategist,” Nozomi doesn’t back off, and sits up to face me. “The four of us don’t have a leader. We work as equals, as a gestalt that compliments one another. Yuuko takes point. Mizore hangs behind. I’m everywhere at once, and you hold us together.” She 

 

“Okay fine,” I concede, loosening my grip, before holding her hands tighter than ever. “You’re not our leader, but you are a leader. You cannot deny that, that you have exceptional qualities beyond the abilities Sburb has given you.”

 

Nozomi attempts to wiggle out of my grasp, and I let her, but catch her as her momentum leads her to fall on the bed again.

 

“Please,” I ask, holding her shoulders. "I need you now, more than ever."

 

Nozomi bristles, eyes unable to meet mine, her voice dipping as she tucks her chin. “I never said… I wouldn’t be there for you.”

 

"Your blessing,” I clarify. "We do this together, or not at all.”

 

Nozomi’s eyes are such a deep, intense blue, they’re just like Asuka’s. Put glasses on her and you’d think they were siblings. And when you look at the similarities in abilities, it’s hard to deny any resemblance. I’m merely adopting the Vice-President’s mannerisms - Nozomi’s the real deal.

 

I’m drawn to her magnetic personality, her charisma, her strength, her wit. Yuuko will complain but she’ll comply, as stubborn as she is. Mizore will just follow along. But Nozomi… she’s always thinking, has our best interests at heart. Her green light is the one that counts.

 

And she’s one of my oldest friends. It matters to _me_.

 

Her eyes are closed now, and I can see the way her pupils quiver in their sockets, the way they dart around as she assesses my plea. The silence is damning, and even as I relax my grip my knuckles feel like they’re going white.

 

“…alright. Fine."

 

I didn’t even realise I had stopped breathing. The exhale swooshes out like a draft through a tunnel, and I pump my fist in the air in jubilation.

 

“But!” Nozomi puts up a finger. “My plan and my terms. And, I want you to run through with me our emergency procedures, just one last time, so I know that the most important stuff’s in that thick skull of yours.”

 

“Yes, mom,” I roll my eyes, as Nozomi pushes me away from her, before throwing my bolster at me. 

 

“In the case of a casualty, we ascend,” I reply, catching the second pillow that comes my way, and plopping back onto my bed. “Becoming a god tier requires a dead body placed on a Quest Bed that can be found on every planet. If you’re already down to one life because you or your dream self have been killed and then subsequently revived, there is a Sacrificial Slab at the core of Derse and Prospit’s moons, where death and ascension can take place.”

 

I fling the book I had been reading back at Nozomi. “My recitation good enough, teacher?”

 

“Yes, you blockhead,” Nozomi replies. “You know, in retrospect, I’m find our impetus for starting these denizen-hunts… almost disturbing. We were finding a way to ascend that wasn’t so… blunt. It’s almost like we’re pseudo-suicidal.”

 

“I have no intention of anyone dying,” I say, and conviction resonates throughout my words. “Not on my watch. When we go out to return as deities, it will be on our own terms."

 

“Okay,” Nozomi replies, a tad flustered as she grabs my hand. Death doesn’t sit well with anybody - or I guess, pain. “Okay,” she repeats for emphasis, needing to convince herself.

 

Nozomi’s head perks up, and she glances at my bedroom clock. "I have to go out.”

 

I get up from the bed, frowning. "Huh? We need to draft plans, and asap. We might even have to pull an all-nighter, and I can give the caffeine boost but what I don’t have is time-"

 

"Haruka wants to speak to me,” Nozomi insists. “It’s important."

 

“Can’t you do it well… later?”

 

“I already delayed it, because of Amaterasu,” Nozomi says. "I promised her.”

 

“Oh.” I reply, shoulders slumped, sheepish. “Whoops."

 

"I’ll get back to you after, alright?” Nozomi assures me. “In the meantime, you can start discussing things with Yuuko, maybe Mizore if you can get through to her.”

 

Nodding, I get up to send Nozomi out. With a snap of her fingers, she weaves fabric out of hard light, materialising to form a simple, luminescent gown above her sleepwear. Most of our planets are chilly and windy enough that she can afford the double layers.

 

After I open the door, and Nozomi hurries into the distance, getting ready to takeoff towards the gates, I knock the doorframe twice, leaning my head against it.

 

“Hey,” I call out after her.

 

Nozomi doesn’t have to hear. She knows. “Yeah?” she shouts back, turning around.

 

"You’re the best,” I grin.

 

I don’t hear her reply, but as she flies off above the dull hum of her jetpack’s engines, I chuckle at what her two words could only mean.

 

"I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter’s soundscapes:
> 
> The Golden Age - StoneOcean  
> Story and Song - Griffin McElroy
> 
> chapter stuff:
> 
> nats is antsy. i was looking for a triple-goddess (the morrigan, norns, and tridevi are the most obvious candidates) but settled on the horae (a triple triad, focused a fair amount on seasons and agriculture and stuff) for said prince of life to combat. more shitty game of thrones references i guess ahaha.
> 
> now some update stuff:
> 
> you’ll notice i died for a week, and then some. i want to assure you that this is not going to be commonplace, but i’d be lying. but it’s been an especially wild ride of a week.
> 
> my work/life schedule is crumbling, what with school starting and possibly life changing developments (of the minor sort), that kind of nonsense. my sleep is disintegrating faster than i can shout ‘let kumiko be gay’ but alas life is never so kind (why kyoani why).
> 
> i will do my very best to update three chapters a week, but this will no longer be restricted to t/t/s. sometimes it might be five times in two weeks. sometimes there will be double or triple chapter updates at once. whatever the case, the story moves on. this fourth arc will be about as long as the third in terms of words, and there will probably be a break of sorts at the logical halfway mark (you’ll know when we reach it). until then, i’ll sweat it out and we’ll see how things unfold, and then i’ll update you all again.
> 
> thank you for reading my story.


	75. 侘寂 Quartet 4.3.1 (Nozomi)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's another chapter to make up for the lack of updates. hopefully i can get another one up by tomorrow!

[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uy_2B-diV18)

 

The double doors open wide, outward, as I storm through, my knight’s cape flowing in my wake.

 

“Good day, Miss Nozomi! You are looking particularly dashing to-“

 

“Not now, Albert,” I dismiss. 

 

The White Queen isn’t sitting in her throne. Her hands are behind her back, and she’s staring out of the window, and upon my entrance, turns to face me.

 

"I believe congratulations are in order,” she smiles, creases forming on her porcelain face. "No small feat, taking down a denizen.”

 

“You lied to us,” I accuse, my voice echoing down the hallway of the throne room, still striding towards her.

 

She knows I’m not playing around. “I don’t understand,” she frowns. “I never lied-“

 

“You withheld information,” I continue. “The most pertinent, important piece of them all.”

 

“With so much information available, I couldn’t possibly divulge them all,” the White Queen continues, her chin up. “Surely, you of all people know this. You didn’t ask the specific question-“

 

“Enough with that bullshit!”

 

I’m just paces away from her now. “Something as important as this, you knew all along. Let’s not sugarcoat this - you lied to us.”

 

“I did not lie,” the White Queen remains adamant, and even though she’s much taller than me, I don’t flinch as I take my stand in front of her.

 

“Twisting definitions whichever way, fine. But we’ve been played, all of us.” I stare into her dark eyes, and I imagine this is what Yuuko must feel when she’s connected to an opponent. “For the past month, we’ve thought that our ultimate goal was to help Prospit win the war against Derse on The Battlefield. But that’s not it. It’s never been it.”

 

The White Queen doesn’t reply, instead looking down in obstinate silence.

 

“Our endgame is to defeat the Black King,” I say, spelling it our through grit teeth. “To protect Skaia from his rampage and allow for the safe incubation of the Genesis Frog in its core.”

 

“That is correct,” the White Queen replies. “The war exists because Prospit is charged with the defense of The Battlefield, which Derse seeks to destroy.”

 

“Derse doesn’t just seek to destroy,” I say, my voice almost a snarl. “They despise creation, and why does the Genesis Frog threaten them so much, hmm?”

 

No answer.

 

“TELL ME!” I shout, righteous fury directed straight at her, fists balled up, swords of hard light manifesting around me. “Why are we here in the first place, hmm? What is our purpose in coming to the Incipisphere, in becoming gods, in fighting a cosmic war?”

 

"Are you threatening me?” the White Queen asks. “Do you know who you’re talking to?"

 

“Do you?” I extend an arm, cape swishing behind me, as an intricate broadsword of light materialises in my hand. “I am the Knight of Light!"

 

"And I am the Queen!” the White Queen raises her voice, before a certain aura reverberates outwards from her, by virtue of her sheer willpower. "The White Queen of the Kingdom of Light! You should know who you serve, young knight.”

 

“I serve who I choose,” I retort. “My sword exists for cutting down those who threaten my friends and I, and you do not want to be on the opposing end. We brought down a denizen, remember?"

 

The White Queen narrows her eyes. “Careful, now. Did you think it was all your merit?”

 

For a moment, my mind races, wary and guarded against the implications of her statement, her motives behind it, checking if it’s a distraction, or if there might be any veracity behind it even if it might be twisted to her purposes. But she doesn’t act on it. 

 

“Sburb moves in mysterious ways, and this game is more insidious than it’d let you believe,” she warns. “It is no coincidence, what you heroes have accomplish, and I applaud you for that. But it pays to be careful. Danger is more imminent for you than you’d expect."

 

A warning, a threat, or a lie? I can’t be too hung up on it. "Yuuko would've punched you out of your fancy throne by now."

 

The White Queen doesn’t sneer, but it’s close enough. "Be grateful you're not Yuuko, then.”

 

.

 

.

 

“I cannot serve any queen who refuses to be honest with me,” I reply. “You might not have lied, but you were not honest. Now tell me, what are my friends and I here to do? Why is the Genesis Frog so important?"

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“Because the Genesis Frog represents a universe,” the White Queen replies, calm, without a crack in her voice.

 

“That’s right,” I say, lowering my weapon. “The whole purpose of Sburb is to create our own universe.”

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“Midori would have found out about the Genesis Frog anyway,” the White Queen replies. “It is the responsibility of the Space player for breeding the frogs that populate her land. I simply provided the most effective way forward - if Prospit were to win the war, and the Black King and Queen defeated, wouldn’t the results be the same?”

 

“But you didn’t have to hide it from us! For weeks we thought that we’re just here for this good vs evil battle, which seemed shady as fuck and Yuuko even called you out on it, but this perspective changes everything!” I snap back. 

 

"Can you blame me?” she places her hand on her chest. "I serve my people, my armies. They deserve heroes that will fight for them. They deserve better!"

 

“ _We_ deserved better!” I snatch the drive of her statement and wield it as my own. "The stakes are higher, more personal now,” I continue. “And there’s this responsibility of… I can’t even wrap my mind around it. Creating a whole new universe, one like that one we came from… is this how it works? Is Sburb the cosmic mechanism for the propagation of reality?”

 

“Whatever Sburb represents,” the White Queen replies, exasperated. “Creation often comes at a price.” 

 

.

 

.

 

“I can understand why you did what you did. But that doesn’t mean I approve of it,” I tell her. “Midori said that we need to come from a place of mutual understanding. None of us appreciate being manipulated even if it’s for the greater good."

 

The White Queen sighs, before pacing away from me. “We are on the same side, believe me,” she says, gesturing for me to follow. “I’m tired of letting forces larger than me dictate how things should work. We are both working against a cruel system interested in the vaguest terms of morality and narratives. Just because we defend Sburb, doesn’t mean that we cannot be critical of it.”

 

Her voice softens, and her expression hardens. “The game is not our ally, and it will screw all of us over a thousand times even if it means we have to struggle and fight and fail to reach whatever outcome is desired. I’ve seen it happen far too many times."

 

“Seen..?”

 

She casts me a sympathetic look. "You think you are the only ones who are learning, gathering and synthesizing information, poring through histories and attempting to learn from their mistakes?”

 

The question hangs in the air as she walks towards one of the larger windows towards the back of the throne hall. 

 

“Look at them.”

 

[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7egYKkIKqDs)

 

It’s a sight that I’ve already seen at least a dozen times, one that I’ve gotten used to. The vibrant streets of golden Prospit ripple outwards from the castle, the white carapacians just going about their daily life. No fuss, all energy, a dance of a colony just living.

 

“It’s all here,” the White Queen whispers.

 

“What is?”

 

“Your universe,” she replies. “Isn’t this what any player could’ve wanted? Building a civilisation, one of happy, hardworking citizens, with a rich history, culture, activities. A populace that’s kind, that cooperates towards becoming their better selves, towards making everything function properly that they’re greater than the sum of their parts.” 

 

The White Queen places her hands on the window ledge, and it’s wide enough that I can lean one side of my body against it.

 

“They’re not perfect,” she says. “But they’re as good as it gets.”

 

“They are,” I agree. “When we succeed, we’ll bring Prospit with us. That’s a promise.”

 

She shakes her head a fraction. “Don’t make promises you cannot keep, Nozomi.”

 

“How else am I going to make sure that we make it?” I challenge. “A promise is what you give your damnedest to keep, and I’m doing that. Whatever this game is… we’re going to win it.”

 

“I suppose,” she replies. "You want to go home, don’t you?”

 

“Mm,” I reply. “If there’s a way, why not? The joy’s in completing the game and saying that ‘we did it’, and seeing things properly to the end."

 

"Power doesn’t interest you,” the White Queen continues. "The appeal of being an immortal ruling over their subjects… it’s not your style.”

 

I shrug. “No matter what anyone else says, I can lead, but I don’t enjoy it. It’s a means to an end which I prefer - getting things done. Reigning the same way you do… it’s a hassle."

 

“Then we’re the same,” she grins, glancing at me. “All I want is for them to have the their rightful ruler. A monarch that can give them their rightful ending."

 

The White Queen places her hand on my shoulder. “I can count on you, can I?”

 

“I’ll do better,” I reply, leaning out of the window.

 

“Better has to be enough,” the White Queen insists.

 

“ _I’ll do better_ ,” I repeat.

 

She allows her hand to fall back to her side. “Then better will have to do."

 

Clouds fade in and out of Skaia’s atmosphere, no prophetic visions today. Blue and white form a gradient into black, the empty space of the Incipisphere into the Furthest Ring and beyond filling the universe. Everything’s so large and so small, and  the scale of what we’re working with still baffles me.

 

“Can we go home?” I ask.

 

“I don’t know,” she replies. “But when you come, you typically don’t go back.”

 

I nod. “Alright then.” I extend my hand to shake the White Queen’s. “I wish you good fortune in the days and battles to come.”

 

The White Queen’s grip is steadfast, firm, gentle, and there’s the same pitiful look in her eyes, like I’m left out of the world’s largest inside joke. It’s worrying, but I can’t allow myself to think too much about it.

 

“And me to you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter’s soundscapes:  
> Prepared to Do Anything - David Arnold and Michael Price  
> Light - Sleeping At Last
> 
> i’ve been nervous about this chapter, because it’s the resolution to a mini-arc that has had far too little set-up. but at least finally, 75 chapters in, we have a concrete, final direction to go.
> 
> readers of homestuck might have already noticed the discrepancy. i kind of wanted to experiment with dramatic irony of some sorts, hidden information and the characters piecing together a puzzle that should’ve been fundamental to the universe at hand. it’s also not till the end of act 5 act 1 that we find out the true purpose of sburb and the stakes at hand. i suppose there’s much less impact given that soundscape doesn’t begin with the destruction of earth, but that’s another thing on it’s own.
> 
> i hope that you all understand what this means, going forward. there are clear themes happening here, and i know that i’m not the best at communicating them, but i’ll do my best to put forth the story that we all deserve.
> 
> thank you for reading my story.


	76. 侘寂 Quartet 4.4.1 (Mizore)

[[♪]](https://youtu.be/Yb2arWjBhp0?t=9)

 

Crinkling beneath my fingers, I enjoy the touch of the paper bag, how the crunch of the creases sound like potato chips, like the leaves against each other in the summer wind.

 

My lips lift a fraction. Papa’s prepared cut apple and raisins today, with two onigiri filled with egg custard, and two with plum jam. There’s milk pudding hiding in the corner, and as I lay the plastic ramekin beside me, I watch for the tiny wobble as the pudding settles down.

 

The big tree provides enough shelter, the mosaic of shadow pretty on my skin, almost kaleidoscopic. It’s a nice distraction as I work my way through lunch. I munch on the onigiri, letting the sweet, sticky filling leak out, clinging to the roof of my mouth like uniform to my sweaty back. Even the occasional burst of wind doesn’t help much in this humidity. It doesn’t annoy me though.

 

I leave one rice ball left for after school, a snack to keep myself preoccupied on the way home. The crisp apple finds a satisfactory end between my teeth, each cronch delightful as the mildly acidic juices wash away any earlier fillings. The wind is cool on my sweat, making the whole affair even more enjoyable. 

 

Each day, the scenery is the same. Each day, it is a static painting, a smear of watercolour that holds together the integrity of the image, as anything that moves is fleeting anyway. I’m content with the still frame, a fluid picture that resets to its original position, cycling through the roundabout carousel of light over the course of a day, the weeks, the seasons. It’s so comforting to know that even with so much activity, so much change, everything stays.

 

When the ball bounces and rolls towards me, a few steps away from my feet, I don’t pay it any attention. Their game will continue, break will be over, the pieces will return to their proverbial box of the classroom, and the school yard will remain as it always has been. 

 

"Hey! It's you!"

 

The girl fills the frame, cinnamon tan freckling her neck and shoulders. She gets right up in my face, sweat glistening with eyes so blue you’d mistake them for the sky.

 

Kasaki Nozomi, the klutzy, overconfident all-rounder.

 

“You’re from my class, aren’t you?” she asks. “Yoo… Yoro…”

 

She snaps her fingers, her free hand flicking the ball at half time, and I watch it spin as it rises, and falls back down onto her springy fingers, the click click of her other hand like plucking the bass line. It’s hypnotising.

 

“Yoroizuka!” she exclaims, just as the ball goes high enough it arcs above her head. “Yoroizuka Mizore-san!” My eyes follow its motion, before she catches it again.

 

“Hurry up, Nozomi!”

 

The others are calling her, but she’s paying them no heed. For some weird reason, she’s completely transfixed on me right now. It’s making me self conscious enough that I place down the half eaten apple into the plastic container, and adjust my bowtie, smoothening the creases of the neatly folded blazer to my left.

 

“Wanna walk home with me?”

 

I can’t see the school yard. There’s only the shadow of Kasaki Nozomi, the sun like a halo framing her silhouette, and even though I can barely see the details of her, she’s blinding. I don’t process the request, because I don’t know how to.

 

“I’ll take that… as a yes?” she grins, wiping more sweat off her forehead. “Well, if I’m being too annoying you can just say so later.”

 

“It’s… it’s fine,” I reply, not so much mumbling or swallowing my words, they just come out soft. Everything from me comes out soft.

 

Nozomi’s grin stretches from ear to ear, and she’s heard me. “Great!” she sings, and how anyone could sing a single word is a mystery to me. “I’ll see you later, then!”

 

And then she’s gone. Dribbling the ball back to the rest of her friends, just another figure in the school yard, one of a dozen tiny blotches of colour that blur into the background.

 

But the painting no longer looks the same. It is the same as before, but something’s different. It’s like there’s more light, or more colour, something shifting, something gone terribly right, or horribly wrong. 

 

As I bring the milk pudding to my lips, prepared to slurp the whole thing in one go, I can’t figure out why.

 

* * *

 

I know I’m awkward.

 

It gets so embarrassing I wish I’d just disappear. I don’t even want to die, because then they’d still remember me, I just want to be gone.

 

Everything’s so silly. And I just make things harder, make things worse. I know how incredibly stupid I’m being, but somehow it doesn’t help. You’d think that once you see your mistakes as mistakes you can stop, that you can correct them, but I’m just spiralling out of control, 

 

Long ago, I made peace with myself. That I would never matter very much, in the grand scheme of things or to anyone in particular. A quiet life could be a good life, a small circle is still a circle, and that things would be alright. No point trying to force things that didn’t want to be forced.

 

But then, she happened. 

 

[[♪]](https://youtu.be/A8v-gdQXAVI?t=92)

 

The pink lights dim but not completely, a wilting rose as I drown in velvet. I’m inundated to the smell of strong liquor, and watch bubbles fizz around me. I poke at them, watching them pop, chuckling to myself. 

 

I’ve been blind. A complete, utter fool. Of course I know that I don’t matter, not that much. Nozomi’s absent-minded, not malicious, she cares for me, but she never will in the way that I do. She’s _precious_ to me, and in my fear of losing her I’ve only continued to push her away again and again, because maybe rejection hurts less when you do it yourself.

 

Maybe I just don’t want to admit the truth. Everything I did, I did it for her - and for what? Is it worth it? What does worth even mean in love? It should be enough, to just care for someone, regardless of reciprocation, but it hurts. It gnaws away at my chest, leaving my breathing ragged, because all I can think about are those eyes, that smile, that voice. Her flute, a distant memory burned fresh in my mind, so distinct that it was the pride and joy of Minami High. I can still hear it now, the voices around me singing her song, strong-willed and resolute and beautiful-

 

Ah… ha. Ha ha ha. It’s so embarrassing. It’s so pathetic. For tears to stain my face, trickling down my cheeks, my collarbone, my thighs. Her hands are wrapped around my waist, I want it so bad I can feel it, and I know it’s not there and it will never be there, I-

 

My back arches into the couch, hands and arms grabbing at me, a massage as tender as my fever dreams. I’m sweating, sticky, a haze of delirium and nihilism, a smile that’s not a smile, laughing at myself. It echoes, much like the voices whispering into my ear, of promises meant to be broken.

 

The voices caress the back of my ear, a shiver running down my neck, and they ask me to go under.

 

A glass finds its way into my fingers so easily. I drink, breathing liquid like I was born in the ocean. I don’t care what I’m swallowing anymore, as long as I’m swallowing. I want to taste freedom, I want to savour the sweetest dreams. I want magic on my tongue, like honey crawling down my throat, filling me up, bringing me higher.

 

I drink again, and again, and again. I want to taste love. I want to taste lust. I want to taste _her_.

 

_Her, her, her._

 

It’s always been about _her_.

 

What about _me_?

 

_Me, me, me._

 

It should’ve been me.

 

It should’ve been _us_.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

I guess in the end, it’s all about me. It has to be.

 

My throat is parched. I want more.

 

The voices don’t have to say it twice. I take another glass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's soundscapes:
> 
> Fine On The Outside - Priscilla Ahn  
> ME!ME!ME! (Cut) - Daoko ft. Teddyloid
> 
> bittersweet, and then bitter.  
> mizore's not in a good place.
> 
> as always, thank you for reading my story.


	77. 侘寂 Quartet 4.1.2 (Yuuko)

“Mizore?”

 

[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rCywWxg5DoY)

 

The uneasy silence, the note that desolation plays. That’s the first warning. Her door’s ajar - the second. I don’t want to wait for a third cue, but there it is. Everything else, or more accurately, nothing. There’s nothing, only stale light I’ve invited in, a cone that fans open and close with the door, and then total darkness. I’m not even kidding, how dark it is, and my eyes can’t even adjust. Flames bubble from my left wrist to fingertips, the smoke a serpent coiling towards the ceiling.

 

Rain strains itself against the windows. If water could squeeze through the fine sieve of reality it would, but this house keeps everything out.

 

My fire sweeps across the ground floor, illuminating nothing. Mizore’s like a ghost, the place almost unlived in. Somehow, her inactivity seems to stretch into months, when it couldn’t have been more than a few days. A worn out cotton sweater draped across the dining room chair. Coffee cups unwashed, sitting along the sink. Questionable stains on the carpet, not soggy but not yet dried. I’m acclimatising to the smell, and it’s like sucking on a sour plum until your tongue goes numb.

 

I never thought I’d think of Mizore’s as rancid. A mild kind sure, but there’s nothing healthy that exists here.

 

The door leading towards the stairs upstairs is locked. I tug harder than usual on the doorknob, and it doesn’t give way - you’d be forgiven for mistaking the mechanism as rusted. I notice a second door, and swinging it outwards, it leads down.

 

Mizore had built a basement.

 

Unsurprising, given that the primary application for her ability thus far has been to eat away at the earth, reclaiming space down under. Much more surprising, that she’d somehow managed to hack Sburb, assume her server player’s controls, and proceeded to build, while Nozomi hasn’t had a single clue. 

 

I want to blame her, and I can, but I shouldn’t. Nozomi’s never been faultless. For all her charm, she’s rubbish at dealing with people. Doubly so for situations she cannot understand, or worse, ones that she understands far too well.

 

Wait-

 

The disturbance settles the moment I turn around. Dim orange swims in front of my eyes, and whatever it had been, it almost sounded like a liquid sloshing about, the kind in a beaker. But now, that sound has scattered, not even an echo remaining, only my imagination imprinting itself into my senses.

 

Goosebumps prick, one by one, and I know that I’m not alone. There are eyes watching.

 

I walk briskly down the steps, and reach a second door. Giving it a polite knock, there’s something different about the material. It’s soundproof, I realise, some combination of hollow plastic or aerated foams, very much like a studio I’ve been in before. 

 

The doorknob turns without resistance. 

 

[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p-o_bMkzOW0)

 

A new track spins on with my entrance, electro-pop and synth thumping with full force. The room is so pink, the uncharacteristic colour's blaring until it’s basically sickening. Yellow and green lights criss-cross like duelling swords in a drunken, frenetic showdown.

 

The rest of the room is an aquarium and a three-dimensional maze, oblong shapes of liquid floating about, like raindrops in suspension. A rainbow sheen refracts through them, casting translucent shadows that pepper the carpeted floor with blotches of tiny islands on a world map.

 

I can’t look at Mizore. 

 

The liquid’s blocking my vision, distorted outlines swimming about, but it’s not just that. I don’t want to look at what’s she like. Seeing her like this, it’s like intruding on something very private, and I can tell how bad it must’ve been for Nozomi. I scan the room, desperate for something that could just cover Mizore up, because this is just-

 

_“_ Yuuuuko _?”_

 

It’s like my soul just dropped into uncanny valley and came out the other side. The migraine inducing music doesn’t help as well. I make my way to her side of the room, flame evaporating the suspended liquid or just pushing it to one side, already unwrapping my shawl to give to her.

 

“You’ve…” she drawls, before hiccuping, and giggling to herself. “Yoush caught… meee! Shhh…”

 

I spot her in clear view just as her hands fly to cover her mouth, as though choking back the dirty little secrets that threaten to slip past her. She’s slumped in the muted lighting, legs spread like an asshole on the train without any sense of personal boundaries. 

 

The shape of hands and limbs connect towards torsos and chests, towards full bodies and then heads with faces.My stomach plummets further, on a rollercoaster that only knows how to go down, the beat dropping in perpetuity. 

 

Mizore never did tell me the name of her planet. I’m sure Nozomi knows, but somehow it’s just never been brought up. All that means, is that when I finally come face to face with her inhabitants, I… don’t know how to deal.

 

“Nozomi..?” 

 

As though carved from smooth, glossy, Lapis, there she is, two of her, the shape and visage of Kasaki Nozomi. Their fingers are all over Mizore, playing her like a flute, or on oboe, I’m not sure which metaphor is more apt because it doesn’t matter. 

 

“Hey,” I posture, trying to think of mapping my methods for dealing with the kitsune here. Another form of a shapeshifting creature from mythology, no doubt, so maybe there’s an analogue I can make use of here. Intelligent beings can be reasoned with. “I’m just here for my friend. I’m worried about her."

 

There’s a stirring behind me, and I feel something slick and wet caress my neck, like someone licking it but feeling cleaner, and simultaneously dirtier in a different sense of the word. Even as my face involuntarily flushes, prey instinct kicks in to warn me of the threat they’ve just made.

 

Don’t break eye contact, I tell myself. If I flinch, that’ll be seen as weakness and they’ll take advantage of that. I take a step towards Mizore, and the Nozomis hiss. I put both hands up, shawl in my right, signalling that I’m just going to give it to Mizore. They don’t back down.

 

“Yuuko,” Mizore continues. “Ish vewwy cute of ya to come… but I… I’mmm-“

 

She can’t even form proper sentences now. I fling the shawl like setting a tablecloth on a table, the fabric covering up the most of Mizore’s modesty. The Nozomis just lean in closer towards her, hands seemingly going deeper into her skin beneath the cloth.

 

Shapes form to the side of me, and I allow myself to look. All the water has disappeared, or more correctly, conglomerated. The eyes are all about now, the water-creatures surrounding me and colouring this charged situation with more danger than I’d expected.

 

There are empty bottles all over the floor, and they’re just sitting there. I spot the glass sitting next to Mizore, half-filled. I crouch, and pick up a bottle close to me. There’s the faintest layer of dust on the bottle, but it’s there, and looking around the room, I don’t see a single upright bottle, or anything new stashed away, and it paints a worrying picture. Has my timing been just right, or has Mizore run out of alcohol? What’s she drinking?

 

Mizore moans into one Nozomi, body undulating, bringing one arm up to embrace the other Nozomi’s head, while said Nozomi eagerly leans in, and they...

 

I didn’t know it had gotten this bad. This has to stop. Now.

 

“Mizore,” I say, urgency outweighing the horror in my voice. “Get up. Let’s go."

 

The Nozomi making out with Mizore opens her eyes, flashing a coy glance at me, while the other just holds Mizore, one hand on her torso, the other holding up Mizore’s head. As my hands grab Mizore’s, this second Nozomi kicks at me, her liquid legs becoming a smear that slaps against my arm.

 

“No,” I repeat, escalating my frustration in my voice. “I’m not leaving without you.” The other shapeshifters look on, eager. If this comes down to a fight-

 

Fake-Nozomi breaks off from kissing Mizore, proceeding to plant a garden of broken promises with her lips, trailing down her neck to her collarbone, her hand just pawing at her chest, and Mizore’s just lying there, enjoying every moment, trapped in her Eden, her Paradise, in a whirlwind of blissful ignorance. I tug at her, but she doesn’t budge, a rag doll dead to the world, held down by lustful captives who blur the line as to if they’re acting for or against Mizore’s will.

 

And then I feel arms wrapping around me. More than one set, around my waist, around my shoulders, hauling me backwards, and I stifle back a scream, because I am stronger than this, I can fix this-

 

The second Nozomi lets down Mizore gently, until she’s lying horizontally on the couch, the other Nozomi working her way down Mizore. She gets up, and her features just melt off, her face smoothening into a blank slate, and she begins to walk towards me.

 

A firm hand grabs my cheeks, and I struggle to look away, kicking, even as the creature’s grasp becomes stronger, forcing me to face it, my neck tensing up with the rest of my body as I’m held in place, and then suddenly everything softens, and the back of the hand is just stroking my hair to one side, and-

 

"K-…Kaori-senpai?”

 

It’s her gentle smile. Kaori looks purple in the pink light, and I just sag into my captives, the fight fizzing out. I know it’s not real, it can’t be real, but she looks so right, feels so right, and just… beautiful.

 

Haruka walks from behind me, holding my hand, and she looks so… she’s normally wearing looser-fitting, baggier clothing but now I can see the fullness of her figure, the curves and alluring tightness that water seems to give it all, maybe something to do with surface tension and…

 

No.

 

**_No._ **

 

I shake my head, just as I bump into Kousaka Reina. Kousaka Reina with the perfect body, not even an adult but acting like one, looking like one, muscles and fats distributed in all the right places, a surreal divinity to it all, and something deep and primal within me aches. Longs for her in a confused state - do I want to be her or fuck her? - bordering on jealousy on both counts. A flash of green light across my face bringing out the spiteful envy, as I hold my emotions in my palm, flame already rippling outwards.

 

Natsuki greets me, with a smile brighter than the sun. Bad move, because I’m not in the mood to entertain, to tolerate. She just more tinder for my sparks to burn on, and I’m ready to let loose, to cut through all this bullshit, take my friend back, and leave. I know what this place is trying to do to me, and I’m not going to fall victim to it.

 

Mizore stands before me, and even as she’s translucent, every detail stands out. She’s so vulnerable, timid, shy, and she tugs at the hem of my blouse-

 

The real Mizore remains lying on the couch, facing me, and between her hysterical snorts and half opened eyes, I can see that same expression telegraphed on her face, the hurt, the awkward, the help, and I-

 

My rage dissipates, just like that. I can’t burn her. I can’t burn this place down with her in it.

 

The frothing liquid hits the back of my throat before I can react.

 

I try to retch it out, but I can’t. Natsuki’s holding the glass that she slammed into me, and as I slap it away, Natsuki dissolves as well, just as the clang and shattering resounds throughout the room. It’s not alcohol. It’s something subtler, creamier, crystallised. The taste overwhelms, and the aftermath overtakes. My senses are compromised, and I can’t find myself fighting back, leaning against the wall.

 

Kaori casually saunters towards the table, picking up Mizore’s unfinished glass, and refills it with herself. I’ve just had-... Mizore’s been drinking-

 

I have to get out. _Now._

 

The creatures don’t stop me, as I stumble back the way I came from, going up the stairs two at a time, racing to be free, but then the entire planet’s a prison, no need for a room, or bars, or anything. I scramble for the main door, but my legs are so heavy, as I feel like my body’s just so light as it thuds to the ground, like my soul leaving my body, and the flames flicker out, darkness subsuming me.

 

* * *

 

Rain wakes me up, the pitter-patter against my cheek. I’m drenched, my ribbon so soggy that it’s just flopped down, a pair of defeated ears. My body’s sore all over, the fight against Amaterasu taking its toll.

 

I pick myself up, and head to the door. It’s locked. I fumble to take out my still-working phone, bringing up Nozomi’s text for the house-code. It doesn’t work.

 

No amount of pounding against the door will change anything. There’s no one that can hear me, who will hear me. The creatures are still watching, I know it, and it’s almost like they’re stuck to me, as though every essence of them carries through the rain, each drop I might swallow just another psychedelic concoction.

 

I can’t win today. I patch up my wounded resolve, gather the remains of my broken pride, and leave Mizore’s home, hobbling and in shambles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter’s soundscapes:  
> Desperately Safe - Alias Conrad Coldwood  
> LUVORATORRRRRY! ver れをる feat.nqrse - Reol
> 
> let’s consider a few things. it's not so much a justification as a reminder.
> 
> mizore’s intoxicated. without a doubt.  
> we’ve just gotten a wake-up call that sburb doesn’t necessarily act in our heroes’ best interests.  
> mizore’s planets’ inhabitants have been influencing her.  
> mizore’s intoxicated. she spends a lot of time in semi-consciousness.  
> where’s her dream self? 
> 
> so, to reiterate: things haven’t exactly been going well. they’ve never been.


	78. 侘寂 Quartet 4.3.2 (Nozomi)

[[♪]](https://homestuck.bandcamp.com/track/joey-claire-extraordinaire)

 

Jagged rocks vanish into a gradient, and I can look at my reflection in them, like staring into undisturbed water. It evokes a sense of serenity, taking my mind off Mizore, off Tsukuyomi, off problems. I mean well, I’m heading right into solving another one, but it doesn’t feel like it. Ugh, I don’t need a reminder.

 

“Don’t drag behind! You best catch up!”

 

“Not everyone can fly like you, Midori.”

 

The caves are like a second home to her, a solution to loneliness. Midori floats as I trudge along, only one set of footsteps echoing throughout. I’m a tad anxious, meeting my second denizen just before my third is soon due. But as the Knight, it is my duty to accompany the Hero of Space in their frog breeding quest.

 

Echidna is the nexus to all this. The mother of monsters, perhaps the wisest denizen, having given counsel to generations of sessions of Space players. 

 

“She’s a darling,” Midori reminds me, having already met the denizen twice. “I mean, at the very least it’s not gonna be like Amaterasu.”

 

“That’s a relief,” I smile, the sheathed sword hanging in my belt for ceremonial purposes. If I was going to be this damsel’s knight, I might as well play the part well.

 

My prismatic bird hovers above the both of us, and as the shape of the caves begin to end, it dissipates, returning to me. Whether it was dispelled by the denizen’s sheer presence, or subconsciously called back to preserve energy, I’m not sure. What I do know, is that hostile or not, each denizen deserves our utmost respect.

 

Teal and turquoise begin to branch out into molten orange, and then funnelling into two rivers of sun and fire that flank the pathway. Lava scales the walls like capillaries taking root, arteries and veins leading towards the heart of the planet. Hints and flashes of Echidna’s prodigious length dip in and out of both lava streams, as though she was birthed in it, the Forge a womb that encloses her. She lingers in the distance, and us in her shadow, sleek and long in contrast to Amaterasu’s bulk. 

 

Her face is unsettlingly human, that of a lady but not quite, as though we were projecting patterns onto her. In that, there’s a kind of universal grace in her features, the kind not subject to interpretation. She’s _the mother_ , after all.

 

[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CYcc8vxd5TY)

 

“Echidna,” Midori bows, and I do the same. She remains still, unmoving. 

 

Up close, her quills are statuesque, icicles that will never melt, ivory towers that carve instead of being carved. They meld with ease into her scales, which cascade downwards like an avalanche of lavender and silver.

 

“I’m fine, thank you,” Midori replies. The conversation’s already begun, and I’m tuning out Echidna’s rumblings, like discordant chords in my head. If I focus hard enough I can parse the message, separating notes from their triads or quartets but that’s not appropriate. They’re not for me. “I’m here for counsel, if you will, on very important matters.”

 

My attention’s diverted elsewhere. Towards Echidna’s lair, this chamber that seems very much constructed as much as its grandeur is natural. The way Midori’s sapphires peek above the lava, glowing with a peculiar warmth, highlighting peculiar shadows in the lighting. 

 

“Cheeky, you!” Midori giggles, and it’s almost fascinating how she can talk with Echidna like an old friend, with such ease and humour. “We can talk about how mysteries are meant for me to be solved, to grow as a person yada yada, but you should have told me about something this important!” She pouts, crosses her arms, feigning disappointment but not really. Her demeanour is disjointed for the atmosphere, unbecoming of the situation. It’s like an actor breaking character, and it’s making me anxious.

 

I push these thoughts out of my mind. Segregating unnecessary fear and paranoia by acknowledging it, and then putting on a filter. Midori’s here, safety vouched for. My mind gravitates towards Tsukuyomi, the more imminent threat, even when I’m supposed to take a break. The work never really ends, huh. Instinct continues to nag in the wake of the White Queen’s words, her implicit warning that I don’t know how to unpack. Skaia has been silent, like a conspiracy against me, my dreaming hours hardly coinciding with the appearance of clouds. I attempt to formulate hypotheses about systems, about intentions and goals, whether systems themselves can be considered sentient enough for its mechanisms to be purposeful. What about the architects of said systems, if any? Does the watch reflect the watchmaker, or do phenomena exist in isolation and evolve beyond preconceptions?

 

“When will it be time, then?” Midori sags, defeat in her body language. “We’ve been here for almost a month, and I have to wait even longer?”

 

Frogs. The Genesis Frog. The Reckoning - the likening of tadpoles to spermatozoa to meteors, a crude metaphor for fertilisation, or as context and revelations like to remind me, the other way round. Sburb is the progenitor, the genesis, things stem from it, not the other way round. But if the players are agents to which these processes are enacted, then aren’t they also imprinting their own cultures and beliefs and biases on the system? Natsuki’s ‘oni’ are only known as such because she’s Japanese - to a Westerner they might just as easily be golems. But when we create a universe on our own… where does anything begin? What comes first?

 

Cycles, cycles and cycles. Chicken or egg, thought or language, Sburb or Universe? Catch-22s everywhere, an ouroboros, cramming as many apt metaphors as possible to make sense of it all, questions too large for even the divine-

 

_"Nozomi."_

 

The mention of my name startles, upends, and I drop to one knee at once.

 

With a glacial slowness, Echidna turns to face me. Midori doesn’t seem to react, lost in her own bubble of contemplation. I want to ask her what our next steps are regarding our duties, but I dare not interrupt even in the shadow of uncertainty and imagination.

 

“Rise,” she commands, and I do. Her words pull, not so much alluring or suggestive. You listen, you follow.

 

“I am addressing only you,” Echidna affirms. “No one else will hear.”

 

So she’s not bypassing the inscrutable bond between player and denizen that distorts conversation to anything else and making it easier for my Light abilities to penetrate. Echidna’s modulating frequencies of some sort, maybe a whole new language? Perhaps even beyond that, whole new modes and channels of communication. Her versatility scares me, because Amaterasu was a problem we divided and conquered. There is no dividing infinity, or a number large enough that it can’t be taken to pieces.

 

In retrospect I wonder how we did it at all.

 

“Speak,” she instructs. “There is much on your mind.”

 

“Only how much I should be worried,” I reply. The banter comes naturally. “With good cause, without offence, Echidna. We are to you what ants are to us."

 

“Cautious,” she replies. "Wary, even now. I admire that in you.”

 

I manage another bow. "Thank you."

 

"Surely you know this by now - power is absolute against the powerless, the very medium of influence. It takes great courage to resist, but great wisdom to accept the inevitable with grace. I hope you will keep this in mind."

 

The proverbial smoking gun has its chamber emptied. My feet shift beneath me without my having to think, adjusting to the low rumbles that plague my mind. 

 

“Echidna?”

 

Midori turns, clumsy, clueless, her head still in Skaia’s clouds.

 

“For all the respect you’ve given me, you have not extended the same to my partner."

 

The paralysis takes hold, the primal knowledge that I am thoroughly and utterly fucked. Typheus. I should’ve known. Every decision comes with a consequence. I chose to ignore the game when I felt that the calling didn’t suit me, and not even for a good reason. I just felt like it, wanted to rebel against systems I thought were beneath me, because not everyone has to slay a gigantic beast, or engage with a divine mentor. No, I could just point a middle finger to all that, walk away, except I can’t really, I know that now.

 

I shake my head, a last attempt at a plea. “I meant no disrespect, Echidna. Merely that-“

 

“Typheus exists for you,” she replies. “It is your choice to leave him to languish alone, cast aside and ignored, bereft of purpose. That is fine, whether through cowardice or malevolence or sheer ignorance. But to balance the scales, you must pay the price."

 

Echidna delivers her sentence, judge, jury and executioner on her own. 

 

"Taking away your sight?” she muses. “No, that would be too trite, the poetry too contrived. This is more apt.”

 

She turns to Midori, rearing her head backwards.

 

_No, not someone else, don’t punish somebody else for my own-_

 

_**“MIDORI!"** _

 

My scream doesn’t seem to reach in time, but Midori works on instinct just like the best of us. She engulfs herself in a pocket space, a perfect sphere of vacuum just like Mizore’s, as Echidna’s wrath swallows her. 

 

For a split second, relief washes over me, serotonin cleansing the cortisol in my veins, because I know Midori’s safe, the flames unable to penetrate her bubble. But then the panic takes root again, because denizens don’t take half measures. My punishment hasn’t been meted out.

 

Echidna turns towards me, so quickly, I never knew something so large could move so fast-

 

The realisation hits me even as i bring up my shield of hard light, unable to keep up with the speed of thought.

 

_Fire cannot travel through space, without oxygen._

 

_Neither can sound, without a medium to transmit it._

 

The last thing I remember before Echidna's attack, is that at least Midori’s safe from the worst of it.

 

[   ](https://freesound.org/people/Sea%20Fury/sounds/48662/)

[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g4mHPeMGTJM)

 

You’d think there’d be incessant ringing.

 

That’s tinnitus.

 

Hearing loss is an absence, a gnawing lacuna that aches to be filled.

 

I can’t imagine a world without colour, without light.

 

But now I have to live in one without sound.

 

Curled up on the ground, I clutch my skull, trying to keep everything in, Echidna’s roar feeling like it could fracture bone, turn muscle and organ into mush. I claw at my ears, tapping my temples for any response at all, manic and in pain, even as Midori comes to my side, bubble dispersed, holding me, steadying the shock that bleeds out of me into the cold, dirty earth.

 

I reach within me for something, anything.

 

There’s nothing.

 

I am empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today’s soundscapes:  
> Joey Claire, Extraordinaire - James Roach and Toby Fox  
> velle - 菅野 よう子


	79. 侘寂 Quartet 4.2.2 (Natsuki)

[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CvFH_6DNRCY)

 

“There, there.”

 

Ruinaulta lies in my lap, head wreathed in a pillow of white. The other oni gather round, like disciples or consorts, forming a ring of camaraderie, a circle of trust. A pair of wings ripple outwards from my back, purely metaphorical, more of an idea of what wings should be. They are gigantic, ten times the wingspan of an albatross, curved in like a pair of cupped hands, and further curved by folding inwards the way a mother embraces a child, forming a translucent dome of sorts around my flock.

 

“It’s alright now,” I reassure. “It’s all going to be a-okay.”

 

Sentient rocks have never taken a breath in their lives. My wings are a pair of lungs, and for the first time, they know what it’s like to taste air. The sweet tang of spring, chilly and fresh, renewal in a bottle.

 

And like a pair of lungs, the windpipe extends from between my shoulder blades, a continuation of my spine. A pillar of white spirals above, and using the lung imagery again, inverts and blossoms. The alveoli don’t just settle within, they branch outward, a tree with roots and a tree that bears fruit. I am the sturdy wood that gives. I am the anchor of the divine that takes.

 

I cast my eyes above head, defiant. The celestial spheres would be in alignment, and tonight would be one of those nights. Prospit’s Moon casts its shadow on my planet, eclipsing the light of Skaia as the first winks of night fall.

 

The earth growls, and the oni huddle even closer. Ruinaulta digs their fingers deeper into the clay. Osiris leans closer, almost snuggling, twin gems of amethyst and aquamarine shivering in their sunken sockets. The menace of Tsukuyomi plagues their minds, and my aura starts to spread thin amongst them.

 

No matter, I can always do more. Push out more.

 

But as much liquid hope I can feed them, the oni have to stand on their own two feet themselves. “Remember the ocean that was promised?” I tell them. “You told me the story, of the sea whose tides retreated, and never returned. Of the waves held hostage by the moon deep in the abyss, of a planet that had dried up, its soul lost to the ravines of the underworld.”

 

At once, I can feel all their gemstones resonating as one, synchronised with my heart, a calm washing over them. Even magical creatures are drawn to water, for it is the source of all life.

 

“I promise you I will take back your ocean,” I tell them. “When Tsukuyomi is gone, you will never have to worry again.”

 

For how important it is, water is almost scarce in the Medium. The sea that I seek to reclaim will be comparable only to one other, to the vast expanse of summer, with long days that stretch into the sunset, and fireflies keeping the dark company.

 

I remember my time on the Land of Music and Summer. 

 

Asuka dislikes venturing out to her beach half of the planet. She indulged me once, when I went over, and she’d stand at the water’s edge, feet coated with a layer of fine sand. When the tide came in, it’d skim off said layer, leaving the coarser grains in between her toes. Asuka would complain without really caring as she skipped rocks into the distance, the palm trees shading us from the heat.

 

_It’s all a mirage,_ she said. _The ocean, the sun, the land without a horizon. All an illusion of ‘summer’, and maybe that’s why I prefer the other half of the planet. There is water, but it doesn’t really cover as much ground as it’d like you to believe. The sun can’t possibly be that much_ hotter, _because we all share the same Skaian sky._

 

_Everything makes more sense when you treat it with greater understanding than you’re ever capable of. When you think of the planets as denizens of their own, and denizens as creatures with their own personalities, their own proclivities, their own potential. And with potential comes change._

 

Her eyes would glisten with her signature fey mischief, more vibrant than even her ocean that was carefully constructed to fit our mind’s mould of the most spectacular ocean ever. T _o think that something so unmoving and static could possibly experience a moment of complete and utter upheaval._ Asuka then turns to me, unreadable behind her mask.

 

_You know what change is, don’t you?_

 

Suntory’s mask looms above me, glancing but not leaning against my tree trunk. Ever stoic, a figure of strength even in their collective moment of weakness, the protector. But Suntory is as simple as oni get, an almost childlike naivety to them. Can you say to truly fear something, when you don’t have a true grasp of the magnitude of that fear?

 

The quake loosens up, like the grip on the planet slackening, a dictator’s iron fist uncurling. If Yuuko has her sob story, so do I. We all have our motivations. Amaterasu enslaved her planet’s inhabitants by making herself essential to them, and then taking that away, as she assumed a position of indolence - what a nice word, indolence. Nozomi must really be rubbing off me. We ferreted out the sloth, and brought her sins to justice.

 

Tsukuyomi is another ball game altogether. Whatever his abilities, I can face them. But I cannot forgive the suffering he brought to my friends.

 

Like sister, like brother. An only child of shadow, Tsukuyomi lies content in the darkness, eating away at the planet’s core to sustain himself. He is patient, and he waited for generations, perhaps centuries, before making his move.

 

From what I’ve gleaned, he is reactive. Amaterasu assumed power on her entrance. Tsukuyomi waits for power to be brought to him.

 

And so, when the oni least expected it, he ensnared them. The light of the moon entrancing them, keeping them in his thrall. Tsukuyomi doesn’t chip away at your being, he chips away at your mind. He made the oni paranoia, snatched away sanity from the best of them, and made them his slaves without having to exert full control.

 

There’s always the fear. The possibility. That when the stars and moons align, on an unfateful night, that his essence will snatch up an oni from the moon door that burrows straight through the earth, consume and subsume them, possession in every aspect of the word.

 

They say that all gemstones are carved from the moon itself. That the oni were made to serve him.

 

Fuck that.

 

As though reacting to my thoughts, the grip intensifies, and the planet shudders. I can feel that it’s not any work of tectonic plates, as though the coward could shake up the earth through sheer strength alone. Tsukuyomi doesn’t have power - that is his sister’s domain. He has control. And I will wrest it from him. 

 

_Interesting. Your game plan intrigues me._

 

Imagine Parseltongue but legible to a non-Slytherin, Voldermort transplanted onto to Basilisk, wrapped up in a slimy, icky kind of nuanced, faux-intelligence, tight and controlling and manipulative like that abusive ex with the slick hair pulled back, but a literal monster, and you will have a good mental picture of what the voice sounded like. Tsukuyomi finally speaks, and he does so in whispers and hisses.

 

“Tsukuyomi.”

 

_Careful, now. Names have power._

 

“This is not a game,” I reply. The oni are visibly distressed, but my strength and resolve anchors them. The fruits of my tree start taking colour and shape, mirroring each oni’s unique gemstone. I am with them.

 

_I_ _apologise. This is not a game, after all. Merely a fantasy that will fade away once you’re back in reality - isn’t that what you tell yourself before you sleep? Don’t you want to go home, more than anything?_

 

He’s not supposed to know that. Then again, denizens know more than they’re supposed to but this feels… different. Telepathy? And keeping in mind the moon theme, a penchant for reflection. Similar abilities to Kumiko’s Venus, then?

 

“As much as I might hope for a fantasy,” I begin. “My dreams will not map so cleanly onto reality. But know this - your reign will become a fantasy. Your fall will be a reality."

 

_Is that a challenge?_

 

[[♪]](https://a.tumblr.com/tumblr_owwd9bNgzs1vsbbfoo1.mp3#_=_)

 

Like the ground yawning, opening up, within my hope field, everything shifts, and the moon door telegraphs itself a few meters away from us. The oni are startled, but I steady them. He’s here, and so am I. Whether through his will, or mine, or both, we’ve attracted each other.

 

I have to make my stand. Here and now.

 

“A challenge it is,” I proclaim, matching Tsukuyomi’s formal tone. “Your throne in the cold, wet underworld you’ve carved for yourself. I will take you off it.”

 

_You presume me to be royalty, but I am nothing like the Queen you have faced. I do not claim to be better, stronger, more powerful, but I am different, at least._

 

“You are all one and the same,” I say. “Just another obstacle for us to overcome.”

 

_As if all obstacles are meant for you to cross_ , he taunts. _As if mortal and divine can be reduced to something so crude._

 

"We could have made our gods look like anything, but back where I’m from? We made them look like us.”

 

_Yet here I am, in every aspect of likeness, unlike you and your kind._

 

“You are dithering,” I say - I don’t quite know what that means, but it feels right off the tongue, and also rhymes with slithering, which is all I can say about this slimy bastard. “Faltering. Afraid. Me and my friends will come for you, and none of your little tricks will distract us. 

 

_Tricks? Why, how you underestimate me._

 

I don’t pay heed to his snark. "Our minds are stronger fortresses than anything you’ve borne testament to. And we will break through any illusion you send our way. We are ready for you.”

 

_Empty words. Empty challenges from empty_ challengers _._

 

White tangles and grows, roots surging forth from me as they latch into the ground. The moon door has a presence of its own, and I don’t bother penetrating it, filling it. I feel my energy flowing, my aura manifest, and so very corporeal. I am the wings. I am the tree. I am the fruit that will inherit the earth.

 

"This planet will see the ocean again."

 

_And you will drown in the water you seek._

 

"The oni will have their land returned to them."

 

_Infested, and crawling with every inch of me. It has always been theirs, and they have always been mine._

 

"Within three days, I will take you down."

 

_Time, the first enemy, and the last._

 

"This, I swear on my life, Tsukuyomi."

 

White pirouettes into the sky, a glorious double helix intertwined and ascendant. This is my moment, my battle, my triumph. My declaration rings throughout the Incipisphere, the words etched into reality, and I know that the seeds I’ve sown will bear fruit, that come my fateful day, it will be ripe for the taking. I am strong, I am powerful. I will win.

 

_No, I was wrong._

 

Tsukuyomi is unrepentant, but I don’t expect anything from him. His presence fades, and the world shifts once again, the eclipse ending, and everything reverting back to what feels right.

 

_Nakagawa Natsuki, Heir of Hope. I look forward to it._

 

The oni rally around me, as I glance at the moon door one final time, and my tree retreats into me, my wings engulfing us in a flare of white, ready to take us anywhere, anywhere but here.

 

_“I look forward to it too."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter’s soundscapes:
> 
> Clair De Lune - Claude Debussy  
> Barricades (Cut) - yosh, Gemie, mpi
> 
> apologies for the late updates. at least updating is still a thing for now.
> 
> i’m not being very subtle at all, am i. we’ll see what happens next. there are also certain musical and meta-musical themes starting to emerge, i wonder if/hope that you’ll be able to spot them.
> 
> as always, thank you for reading my story.


	80. 侘寂 Quartet 4.4.2 (Mizore)

[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l8SfXhG2zxg)

 

Fluorescence illuminates the elevator shaft, thin bricks lining the walls with an unearthly glow. The cables are taut, thick, and the grind of gears comes to a halt, bulky machinery seeming to support the weight of the entire planet’s crust. Pressure builds and accumulates, steam mounting on top of steam, and is released through the cracks in the walls.

 

Girders form the foundation of the underground lair, as they do in the world above. But there is a certain wear and tear to them, yet they persist, stolid and unassuming. As I step out of the lift, a certain disbelief washes over me. Not everyone gets a straight path downwards to their denizen.

 

Imagine the Eiffel Tower, but just the skeleton of the construction. Transplant that into a basin of rock, twice as high as it is wide, with coral-like shelves that remind me of biology lessons - what of golgi apparatuses or rough endoplasmic reticula. In the layers and nooks, they are hiding, watching, a million pairs of eyes. They are the audience to the amphitheatre, and Cetus rests in the middle of it all.

 

Some girders form a hexagon crown where Cetus rests, spiralling into a stalk down the middle, making the her stage seem like a chalice, or perhaps a flower. Water overflows into a drainage system below, and the surrounding structure holds everything in. As far as denizens go, Cetus is short, stumpy, no more than ten or fifteen meters, her fins wallowing in the streams of water curling around her. I think of a beached whale when I see her, but then again I haven’t been thinking straight for a while now.

 

It is dark, but only because the space is so vast, nothing short of a sun would be sufficient. Light and rain seeps through whatever scraggly fissures there are in the rock, and whatever makes it through does, but that’s not what keeps things visible.

 

Above head, melded onto the girders that serve as rafters, are stage lights. They trap the darknes in a diagonal cage, faint dashes of light dissipating along the stream such as the spotlight doesn't reach the water beneath. For every three white lights, there is one with random colour, and it lends a prismatic filter to the atmosphere, even if the lair is first and foremost muted.

 

They are watching, listening. There are no steps, no platform. My body shambles, stumbles, drawn by a magnetic presence towards an edge where rock meets metal, when these elements were always one and the same. This planet, its inhabitants, me, we were always one and the same.

 

“I’m here,” I gurgle, my words like bubbles floating out of a mouth underwater. “I… you called me here.”

 

We invited. You accepted.

 

It isn’t just Cetus. Everyone spoke as a collective. If the planet had a voice, this would be it. As representatives, as an extension.

I want to reply, but my body is failing me. My motor skills are breaking down, my senses dissociating, my body feeling like it’s disassembling. The weeks of degradation and abuse throttle my body, flailing limbs grasping blindly, and I’m being dragged under.

Two steps shambling, one stumble, one knee hitting the ground. Four clumsy movements, and I’m out.

“I… came. What do... you want?”

_Speak!_

_  Sing! _

_    Give voice!_

_     Give music!_

“I don’t… know... what you want!”

_ Us? _

_  Us?_

_    Us?_

_      Us?_

Each word cryptic, mocking, and I just don’t know. The chorus swarms, closing in, concordant in message, discordant in delivery, and my elbows dig into my thighs, arms clutching my head, as if it would help at all-

What do you want?

    What do you want?

        What do you want?

            What do you want?

  


[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YwxCaJCwgr0)

Cetus rises, her lavender body out of her six-sided basin, above the scaffold serving as a barrier between her and everything else. She doesn’t fly, defying every law of physics, moving through air like a massive creature swims through water, slow but steady. Her scales shimmer like scars in the scarce light, undulating like rose petals that could flake off any moment.

I am already kneeling when she arrives, the tide rushing in with her, water pooling around my bare feet. When I raise my head to meet her gaze, I am reminder of a leviathan, even though I’ve encountered larger creatures.

_ sweet child, lost child, _

Her voice is so quiet, so soft, hushed whispers of nature’s secrets, like the dreams of the dead, like ripples on still water.

_ bard of void. the wildcard. the annihilator. _

_ one who allows destruction of nothingness, or invites destruction through nothingness. _

She rattles on these titles, these platitudes, but I don’t feel anything. No rage, no pride, nothing. They mean nothing, but meaning itself has ceased to exist for me.

_ you still feel the pain of her, don’t you? _

Nozomi. I can still hear her. The flute is still playing. She is in the wind that feeds my lungs. Her voice is in the river, which runs into the ocean. I want the water to run dry. I want the music to stop.

I want everything to stop.

_ what is it that you want? _

“I…”

_ What do you want? _

It hurts. It hurts so much. 

_ What do you want? _

I want it all to stop. I need it to stop. 

_ What do you want? _

End it end it end it end it eND IT-

“I want to die.”

All at once, like the waves receding into the ocean and never returning, the voices stop. A tranquil that I have been yearning for, the space between my ears empty, but even in my proclamation, it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. My intent is real, but-

_ death is only the beginning. _

Cetus encircles me, and as I’ve said, she’s not large - so the ring she wreathes me in is small, contained. I feel the brush of her scales against my legs, her fins cradling the back of my head, and I’m sinking. It’s not drowning if it’s this peaceful. I will submerge, and I will never return.

_ you will leave. and you will fight. you will give everything of yourself, you will invite the destruction of your self until there is the nothingness. _

The void. The bard. The role.

I don’t care.

_ i would do it for you, but you deserve better. nothing brings about oblivion like a denizen. _

Her body tightens, but not to suffocate me. It’s seducing me, the embrace of sweet darkness, of what’s to come that I cannot have yet.

_Soon._

_ you will compose your own elegy, and sing its praises. you will bring the moon to the earth, and hell will be frozen over. _

_ you will return ashes to ashes, dust to dust, until even dust dissipates, and all that is left is the wind. _

.

    .

        .        

            .

                and then I will rise, and I will finally be me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter soundscapes:  
> Water Wall - Darren Korb  
> Kafal Sviri - Bulgarian Women's Choir  
>  
> 
> look, i'm gonna fail my exams because i tried finding solutions to aesthetic problems i created for myself in the first place to make things a bit more trippy when i could've just used photoshop but that's for losers who can't google html/css. i hope you enjoy the chapter!!!
> 
> in all seriousness, thanks for reading my story.


	81. 侘寂 Quartet 4.3.3 (Nozomi)

Sensory deprivation tanks are presented as a living nightmare of sorts. In the absence of stimulation, the body latches onto everything else that it can to ground itself into reality, as though one’s physical form could just wither away, and your essence would float around as a ghost for all eternity.

 

But you still actually do have your senses. Every minute twitch of the muscles can be felt against the water. Every hallucinogenic itch behind the eyes comes with a flash of illusory colour. And if you listen long enough, you can hear the blood crawling beneath your skin, and become acutely attuned to the rhythm of life, pulsing from your center towards the space between your ears.

 

I have nothing as drastic as that. I’m not in a prison of my mind, left to my own devices. Even after Midori’s indignant anger, Echidna’s unwavering judgement, Natsuki’s obligatory yet genuine concern, it doesn’t feel real. There is no rhythm I can hear, except the ones that I imagine. I’m afraid to sleep, because the rush of sound in my dreams are a luxury I can no longer afford to have.

 

My other senses compensate, as they always do. My abilities compensate for the lack of information, so it doesn’t quite feel like a disability. But still, it’s like a fundamental wedge of me is now missing, something I can’t quite understand or replicate.

 

Sitting on Natsuki’s bed, hunched over with elbows on my thighs, I focus on the door. There are no longer any sound cues for me to pick up, and I know what Natsuki’s going to say when she comes through that door. I’m counting on it, and dreading it in equal measure. I don’t know when she’s going to return - from hanging out with some first years, or getting some advice from the thirds, or checking in on the oni. All I know is that I have to put my foot down.

 

My lines rehearse themselves in my head, obsessive. There’s little else to do when you’re desperate to fill that void with a semblance of activity. Debate against imaginary constructs, a thousand permutations of opponents with no depth and a limited understanding, extrapolated to cover all bases and then converged into a single Natsuki. Revising for loopholes, for contingencies, the basics, anything she might pull that I have control over. Separate the signal from the noise, filter-

 

The doorknob turns, the lump in my throat hitches. The hinges turn and swings open.

 

“Oh, Nozomi.”

 

Yuuko. Plaid blouse, polka-dot ribbon. The tension in my body releases, replaced by the dawning awareness of pity, Yuuko unsure of how to deal with me.

 

The questions are still there. I ask my questions first.

 

“You’re here? Natsuki invited you over or-?”

 

“I guess?” Yuuko replies. Lip reading, body language, facial cues, context - all these piece together the picture I need. “You’ve been crashing over right? Is er… well, how’re you holding-“

 

I wave off her concerns. “Holding up is secondary to what’s going on. I’ll endure, as I always have.”

 

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

 

“I’m fine,” I assure her. “Compared to Mizore-"

 

Yuuko crosses her arms. "You can’t keep putting others ahead of you."

 

"Trust me when I say I’m allowing myself to be selfish here,” I chuckle to myself, staring at the gap between my knees. “I don’t need hearing to know that the alarms are ringing.”

 

“Here?” Yuuko asks, and I’m glad that she has such a presence, expresses whatever nuances she has so outwardly that I don’t need every single cue to fix the puzzle, and that the raise in her eyebrows, the straightening of the back and tapping of the foot offsets any lack of hitch in her voice. Confusion, before realisation. “You’re waiting for Natsuki, aren’t you? I came with her, she’s just-“

 

“Yuuko!”

 

Natsuki walks in, and I can see Yuuko roll her eyes - she’s thrown on a checkered shirt, sleeves rolled up like a lumberjack to match Yuuko - and she doesn’t even see me, just going on and on-

 

“Excuse-“

 

“Give me a second,” Natsuki holds up her finger to me, and I’m not even allowed to start, momentum dead before arrival. I don’t even have control of the setting, the confrontation, there’s no confrontation. I didn’t plan for this-

 

My fingers rake through my hair, sweeping through like the practiced motion of tying a ponytail. I’m just staring at my feet now, lost, head almost pushed between my knees. Am I unable to improvise for such a small matter over the smallest of disturbances? I need to refocus, calm down, I’ve still got this.

 

I tighten my chest, and then release, relaxing my core - tension is the death of proper speech. I feel the vibrations as I hum, stimulating the mask of my face, ready to project, remembering the basics of vocal training, to send my voice outwards without straining my throat, breathe from the diaphragm but don’t hold it. I look up-

 

“-can’t be serious!”

 

Yuuko has her back to the door, her aura prickling. Natsuki seems as clueless as ever, shuffling about her room, doing things I can’t really focus on.

 

“I’ve already discussed this with Nozomi,” she says. “The plan’s more or less set, it’s not a very complicated one. I just need most of you to be there, my support, you know?”

 

“About that-“ I start-

 

“No!” Yuuko shouts, her voice overriding mine. “Look, I understand where you’re coming from, but can’t it wait?”

 

Natsuki groans, frustrated, the thousandth time she’s heard this now. This is not how I would go about the subject, at all. “It can’t. Not anymore, and I’ve already told you all why-“

 

“We’re not in any shape to be fighting a denizen right now!” Yuuko replies. “I’m not in my peak condition, Nozomi’s deaf, and what about-“

 

“Mizore,” Natsuki grins, arms opening wide as she pushes Yuuko out of the way. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

 

It’s not just the demented, restrained anger I see on Yuuko’s face that chills my blood. Mizore had been standing in the doorway in plain view and I didn’t notice it. And looking at her, a pale and gaunt shell, she looks so diminished, so much less. 

 

“Mizore,” Yuuko starts, in disbelief. She walks over, slowly but firmly pries Natsuki off her, and holds Mizore by the shoulders. “You’re… here."

 

"Of course,” Mizore mumbles. Her lips hardly move, and I can’t make out what she’s saying. "Natsuki called ... to …?… Tsukuyomi."

 

"Yeah, we do this as a te-"

 

The silencing effect of Yuuko's stare is as potent as over. Natsuki doesn’t even get to trail off, just gets cut off right there.

 

"Enough of that," Yuuko continues. "Are you alright? I thought I wouldn’t see you after what happened-"

 

Mizore mumbles something with her back turned to me.

 

I’m still numb all over. _I didn’t even notice her._ Am I going to repeat the same mistakes that caused this all to happen in the first place?

 

“Look, we really need to talk,” Yuuko says, and she pulls Mizore to one side.

 

Now’s my chance. Now or never.

 

"Natsuki, a word?”

 

She shuffles over, slouching but carefree. “What’s up?”

 

“I’m seconding Yuuko. We should really hold off the denizen raid until things settle down.”

 

As expected, Natsuki rolls her eyes, her facial expressions more constipated. "But you told me-"

 

"Things have clearly changed,” I continue. I cannot let up. "My hearing-"

 

"You can understand what I’m saying, right? Your ability is all about information-"

 

"Yes, I’m not severely crippled, but I’m still disadvantaged-“

 

“The gaps you have, I can fill them in, easy-“

 

“You’re not listening to what I’m telling you-“

 

“Was that a joke? Nice joke, but-“

 

“Natsuki, we can’t give the go ahead. We’re not prepared.”

 

“Look, if you’re so worried about your hearing, can’t your dream-self go in your stead? Aren’t they idealised versions of our selves so-“

 

“No, no, Natsuki no-“

 

“-you’ll be able to swop bodies with her, and she can hear, can’t she? And she can fly too-“

 

“Look at what you’re saying! You expect me to bring my dream self’s body all the way here, adjust my circadian rhythm to exchange with hers such that she’s awake when I’m usually awake-“

 

“It’s just for one mission-“

 

“That just brings up more problems! Dream-selves aren’t just interchangeable-“

 

“Is there something wrong with your dream-self, Nozomi? Look, I’ve already said that I will step up where you might be lacking-”

 

“It’s not just me! Yuuko’s not healed!”

 

“I’ll patch her right up.”

 

“And there’s Mizore! I know you two haven’t been close so you’re not aware of what’s up-“

 

“I’m completely aware of what’s-“

 

“She’s not in a good place, alright? She can’t go."

 

"That’s for her to decide.”

 

“Natsuki,” I say, and I don’t really know, because I can’t control my voice well without hearing, but from the feedback, there must’ve been something in it to give Natsuki pause. “Please, just. Don’t.”

 

I can see the frustration in her, pent up after time and time again of being told no, of disagreements and advice against the contrary. There’s a flicker of white in her eyes, the fury and indignation of everything against her aspect.

 

"You told me we were ready to go!” she lashes out. "I already challenged Tsukuyomi-"

 

"What? When did-"

 

"It’s complicated. Point being, we have a deadline-"

 

"With your pride at stake? Nat-"

 

"It’s not like that! It’s never been-“

 

“Day by day, you’re becoming more like her-“

 

“I’m not,” she retorts, and the sparkle in her eyes becomes more dangerous. “Why is everyone out to give me a shit time?”

 

“Maybe, you should start seeing that everyone disagreeing with you is a symptom of something larger at hand. We’re your friends, damn it, we’re not out to actively go against you.”

 

“So,” Natsuki huffs, turning around to grab Yuuko and Mizore’s attention. “All of you are telling me that I’m just throwing a tantrum now, being an unreasonable child-"

 

Natsuki stops, and I realise that Mizore’s talking, even as dazed as she is. I didn’t catch any information she conveyed but from the reactions I can guess the gist of it.

 

"Thank you, Mizore,” Natsuki gestures. "It’s nice to have someone on your side for once."

 

I press my fingers to the bridge of my nose. "Why are you Dersites so eager to roll over and die?"

 

"Are we going into kingdom politics now? You should know better, Nozomi."

 

"Red herrings? Come on, Natsuki, you’re better than this."

 

“Don’t give me that crap. Mizore’s willing, and I’ve said this so many times now. This is my fight. I just need the support. Anything that’s lacking, I’ll fill. That’s who I am. This will be easy-"

 

"Careful, you’re walking down the same path as Asuka-"

  

侘寂 Quartet 4.2.3 (Natsuki)

 

**_ -no! _ **

 

[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vqNjxIZ6AnE)

 

I wrest the reins of reality towards me, the white taking the form of an armoured weapon, starting as a pauldron encasing my right shoulder, and then a sleeve coiling down the length of my arm, culminating into a thin blade, a slight serration at the edges, pointed straight at Nozomi.

 

_“I. Am. Not. Asuka.”_

 

The intensity of my outburst doesn’t shake Nozomi, and I keep by blade at her eye level. Yuuko promptly ushers Mizore out of the room.

 

"Of all the legacies I can inherit, why does everyone insist on hers? Is it the euphonium? Well, I’ve only played it for over a year, nothing lost if I just drop it right now and pick up the french horn or something.”

 

Nozomi exhales, not focusing at all on the sword. “I don’t have to spell it out for you.” She’s collected, attempting to maintain her control of the situation.

 

“If anything, it’s you,” I reply. “You bear her signature. It’s the same handwriting."

 

“That makes two of us,” Nozomi says. “If I’m of the same ink and style, you’re the canvas she’s scrawled herself on."

 

White creeps into the edges of my vision. I keep it there, restrained.

 

"I gave Tsukuyomi my word, and I intend to keep it,” I tell her. "You gave me your word, and can a knight’s word be reneged on?"

 

"Your sword shouldn’t be facing a knight,” Nozomi replies. “Your sword shouldn’t be facing a friend.”

 

“No,” I agree. “Weapons should only be pointed at the enemy.”

 

“Are you hearing yourself?”

 

Yuuko re-enters the room, and even with my back facing her I can tell she’s livid. I can only imagine her face. “Can you see what you’re doing? You’re fucking threatening Nozomi, shit!”

 

I bite back my anger, and lower my weapon slowly, not breaking contact with Nozomi, before bringing it back up, and dashing it onto the floor as the white dispels, the residual energy rippling out in shockwaves.

 

“Why is this so fucking hard, huh? You think I want to do this just for myself? My inhabitants need this too, Yuuko!”

 

I turn heel, facing the ribboned beauty now. “You can understand, right? You have your kitsune, I have my oni, you think Amaterasu’s sibling can have anything good in store for them?”

 

“Natsuki-“

 

“Fucking hell, I’m here to protect them! What kind of a hero am I, if I can’t even do that? I swore on my life-"

 

“You didn’t say that earlier-“ Nozomi cuts in.

 

“Because you’re just going to say how fucking stupid and arrogant I am!” I shout back. “And can you blame me? I just want the best for the oni, is that too much to ask?"

 

Nozomi walks to me, shaking her head. “Damn it Natsuki why do you always-"

 

“We had a deal!” I tell her, just shy of a scream, fighting back the hot tears. “You promised me!”

 

And that’s my final word on the matter.

 

I’m never going back. I can’t.

 

"We fight Tsukuyomi,” I say. "We fight tomorrow morning. Deal with it.”

 

Only forward.

 

"And if you’re not coming, I’m going in alone.”

 

I only get as far as three steps when I feel a firm hand on my shoulder.

 

“Natsuki-“

 

I shrug Yuuko off, headed towards the door-

 

"I can’t send you in to die.”

 

Nozomi. The brainchild, the leader, the general. When I turn to look at her, I see that her eyes are red, without the tears. It almost chokes me up, but I can’t falter. 

 

"I’m not planning on dying,” I tell her. "Not by a long shot.”

 

“You won’t,” Nozomi says. “None of us are letting you.”

 

The white curls around my knuckles, digging into the hell of my palm, and it’s like pressing your hand towards a scorched basketball court at high noon. It hurts, but I’m not going to let them do this. Not on my planet, not in my house. If it comes down to it, if they’re so insistent in getting in my way, I’ll just have to banish them by force, flood the house with energy, fling them back through the gates, then destroy the gates.

 

Nozomi stumbles as she shambles towards me, Yuuko trying to steady her, an ocean of emotional turmoil. I’m keenly aware of Mizore watching all this from behind me, silent, unmoving, a statue or a doll.

 

I feel the white claiming my right arm as it goes numb, and I know what I must do but my body won’t allow it, conflict and betrayal and one side going to eventually win out over the other-

 

“We’re not letting you.”

 

She almost trips a second time as she pulls me in for the hug, and her body just sinks into mine, the fight gone out of her. I catch her weight, and the instant I do, her body heaves. Nozomi sobs into me, and although it’s mostly quiet, it’s also painful, ugly, made out of haunting noises I’m sure she’d never allow to leave her mouth if she could just hear what sounds she’s making.

 

Yuuko glances at me over Nozomi’s shoulder, disappointed but resigned. “We’ll go with you. Of course we’ll go with you.”

 

As she walks out, she gives me a pat on the shoulder, and nothing more.

 

_“I just wish it didn’t have to be this way."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> meet kasaki nozomi, who can’t seem to catch a break or do anything right.
> 
> these chapters’ soundscapes:  
> Never Going Back - The Score
> 
> hope you've enjoyed the pseudo double chapter update.  
> see you next update. thanks for reading my story.


	82. 侘寂 Quartet 4.4.3 (Mizore)

Lush.

 

Natsuki’s pillows and prim and plump, a result of naturally selected materials fed through the pseudo-capitalistic machine of alchemy. Either that, or her family got them from the town departmental store, and it is a crime that I’ve never known about them till today.

 

The fact that I’m able to think of such thoughts… well, I think that means I’m in a better place. 

 

Yuuko doesn’t mean to interrogate, but that’s just how she comes across as, even as she makes a concerted effort to tone down, restrain herself. It’s not like I can offer up much - I don’t remember a lot of things, don’t know that I don’t remember a lot of things. It’s like an omniscient being realising they had a gap of knowledge for the first time, like there’s something missing.

 

Even after Natsuki cloaks me in a cocoon of nourishing energy - and I feel a lot better - I still don’t really know what’s happening. What instincts that drew me to answer Natsuki’s call, what I’ve been up to the past few days, even weeks. I know that things definitely happened, but it really does feel like a dream, even though that phrase has been so overused that it’s lost its meaning. I don’t dream like the others as well, and I don’t want to think about it.

 

But after all’s said and done, I’m here. Safe, probably. Healing, maybe, whatever that there was to heal.

 

Night falls, the traditional kind unlike what I have back on my home planet, even if I can’t articulate the exact difference. The air is chillier, and Skaia’s light gives way to a cerulean sky, and then an indigo one. I’ve been lying on one of the makeshift sofa-beds in the living room. There’s no room to complain - it’s all very comfortable.

 

Nozomi looks the worst I’ve ever seen her, in an oversized nightgown, her hair frazzled with split ends as she staggers into the living room, glances at me, and gives me a wide berth.

 

It hurts, my heart, the ache that’s been festering in my chest. But not for the same reasons - I’ve spent so much time in paranoia, maybe even hate, that I don’t even know what for anymore. I just… I just want my friend back, even if things are strained and can never go back to the way they were.

 

She’s getting another cup from the coffee machine, which is admittedly, a horrible decision at this point in time. Last minute planning’s not going to help things. Luckily for her, it doesn’t work, and she gives a half-hearted, frustrated punch to the machine.

 

“Nozomi,” I croak, and my dehydration shows. Initial withdrawals from going cold turkey on alcohol, my system’s still not adjusted.

 

She couldn’t have heard me, but she turns in my direction anyway. We lock eyes, perhaps for the first time in weeks.

 

“Water,” I mumble, and realising that my cracked lips are trembling so much she probably can’t even read me, I mime the action. She points towards the coffee machine, before realising it was a stupid idea, and reaches for the flask to pour me a cup.

 

Gingerly, she comes to my side. Hands me the cup while she sits on the tea-table, maintaining distance. I let the liquid trickle down my throat, but it’s only marginally better, like emptying a water canteen in the middle of the desert. I suppose I’ll have to learn to be a cactus.

 

The thought of being a cactus is hilarious, but I’ve been prickly the past few weeks, so the metaphor fits. It’s also a reminder of how shitty I’ve been, and that sucks.

 

I hand the cup back to Nozomi, and she asks if I want more. I shake my head, and then she gets up to leave, because for the life of her, she’s still so horrible at reading people, and I-

 

Say something. Anything.

 

“Don’t go.”

 

Again, she couldn’t have heard me, but she gives pause, and turns around. I extend my right hand, not quite tugging at the hem of her gown. She sits back down, giving me a tired smile.

 

“Hey,” she grins. “Feeling… better?”

 

“Yeah,” I reply. “I’m… compromised, in some ways, but this is the best I’ve felt in weeks.”

 

“That’s good,” Nozomi nods. 

 

When I look at her face, her beautiful, clueless face, there’s just so much that’s changed. She’s aged a decade, maybe more in some ways, the confrontation with Natsuki probably accelerating it by years. Wrinkles are apparent in her forehead, the middle of her brow, and only now when she’s here, she seems more relaxed, the creases smoothening out. She’s not sleep deprived, but the eye-bags are there, again probably from just now, and the last few days. Her glossy head of black has signs of grey sprouting, if you know where to look. The loss of hearing has changed her, the psychological seeping deeply into the physiological, because for Nozomi it all starts in the mind.

 

It all starts in the mind for me, too.

 

“It is,” I agree. “You’re… you’re not in an alright place, huh?”

 

“No, no,” she starts. “I mean, compared to you-“

 

“Nozomi,” I say, and knowing that she knows I’m saying her name, there’s a spark of sorts. The first step towards reconnecting over this capacious chasm with no bottom. “Please, just… you’re important too, okay?”

 

She chuckles, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear. "I’ve been getting that a lot lately. Thanks.”

 

“I know you want to help others… you want to help… me…” I start, not sure how to phrase my words. I’ve never been very eloquent, and I’m definitely not starting now. “But you should let others help you, too."

 

My fingers tug against my blanket, and they get ‘sucked’ beneath my legs as I make room for Nozomi. She moves to sit on the sofa-bed, albeit reluctantly. 

 

“How are you dealing with your withdrawals?” Nozomi asks. Her fingers are fidgety, and I want to hold them, but… I can’t.

 

“Bad,” I start. "Not bad, but not good? I mean, it just feels like there’s something missing.”

 

She chuckles at that, shaking her head.

 

“Well, how are you dealing with your withdrawals?” I echo, knowing exactly what’s on her mind.

 

[[♪]](https://soundcloud.com/mewoneofficial/marina-and-the-diamonds-immortal-mewone-syberian-beast-remix-1)

 

“I don’t know what they are,” Nozomi says. “As Natsuki says I can still… hear on Prospit. I don’t do much there anymore. I’m not really sure how to deal with anything. I drift in and out of sleep so much that it’s… it’s not healthy.”

 

My body shifts such that it cradles Nozomi, like my torso’s curled up around her waist. I tuck my knees in, my thighs against her hip.

 

"Sometimes, I’m afraid to dream,” she continues. "Maybe I should just learn to deal, you know? Maybe this is just all part of… the experience. Of growing up.”

 

“You don’t have to just ‘deal’,” I tell her. “Things do suck. Things are also the way it are, but that doesn’t make it okay. None of what happened to you is okay, and you shouldn’t try to justify it away as a trial to overcome or… whatever.”

 

“But when things aren’t okay, shouldn’t we just… try to make the best of them? What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, lessons learnt and all that...”

 

Even as my brows furrow, I can’t help but allow a weak grin to escape. “That doesn’t make any of it desirable. You’re scared of dreaming… that’s fine. You don’t have to force yourself to sleep if you don’t want to, just to get over your fear.

 

Nozomi crumples into me, into the couch, leaning back in a position that looks almost uncomfortable. "Heh. I don’t even know what I really want anymore. Because I’ll sleep… I’ll be in my room on Prospit’s Moon… and then I’m terrified to wake up. Like, I’ve gotten used to sound and the prospect of losing it again…”

 

Her voice cracks, and her body jerks against mine, and she turns away from me, stifling a sob.

 

"I’m not sure of anything, Mizore. I’m… I’m sorry…"

 

I’m rooted to my bed. I’m not weak, I’m just… I don’t know what to do. It’s much easier to just… remain like this, as much as I want to just get up, go over and console Nozomi. I don’t think I’m ready yet.

 

"Why are you sorry?” I tell her, biting back my own apology.

 

“Everything’s a mess,” she sniffs. "I don’t know. I’m supposed to be the one who’s got it all figured out. The anchor of the team. The one who brings us together-"

 

“No, no, you’re not supposed to be anything,” I tell her, and I pull my knees closer to my chest, hoping to drag her in so at the very least I can… my hand hovers above her shoulders, unsure of what to do. I realise she can’t hear me with her back turned, hasn’t been hearing me, just shutting herself off, going on and on…

 

Reaching out, I manage a reluctant prod, somewhere along her back. She doesn’t quite react.

 

“You know… I think what scares me the most is that one day I won’t be able to hear anymore, for real, and then I’ll forget what sound is like.”

 

Nozomi’s voice is a whisper now, and I… I just want to see her. I push against the couch, getting into a seating position, but I just can’t… I can’t-

 

"That I’ll be so broken that even when I try to piece back the pieces of me… that the cracks will always be there.”

 

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. It doesn’t matter, she can’t hear me anyway. My breath quivers on the exhale, tightens on the inhale, the air just gently pushing against the hairs at the back of Nozomi’s neck, like the tide drawing it in and out. 

 

There’s this grief that surges in me, leaves my throat numb and the area behind my nose fuzzy. My eyes become bleary, and it’s not just the tears - something’s prickling besides the flesh and blood. There’s this emotion that’s familiar yet foreign, like a favourite song played on the radio during middle school holidays, now played again but it’s a cover, or a remix, or a mashup. It’s so strange but I also know that I’m indignant, angry at I don’t know what - how would I know anything? I’m just a kid, damn it, we’re all just kids. I don’t know what strain of injustice this is but I can tell that this is just cruel, a merciless streak beyond apathy and into malice. It’s not fair, for me and my friends to hurt like this.

 

But nothing’s fair.

 

Maybe it’s my newfound rage, simmering within me until it claims me, and I’m shaking, not violently, not even a vibration. Just something I can feel in my bones, and it calls me to move. Then there’s a breath that leaves me, and with it all the fight gone as soon as it comes, the tension forgotten but not forgiven, but it nudges me forward. On the exhale, I slump into Nozomi, and my fingers find her back, and before I can think it scribbles a harmony to her melody, and I’m composing an elegy for our quartet, a song without sound.

 

I’m the same too, I tell her, drawing the words into the shape of her back.

 

She receives my message. I know it.

 

And I let myself fall into her, defeated and liberated. As soon as I do so, something at the core of me knows that this is the last time I will fall for her.

 

I hold her tight. I’m so afraid of losing her again.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“Hey, you two.”

 

Yuuko’s fox slippers don’t make a sound as she enters the living area, holding a mug with ‘Boss Witch’ inscribed on it. She looks radiant compared to either of us, but all the more worse for wear. Our cohort’s diva has seen much better days.

 

Nozomi makes a trumpet-like sound as she clears her stuffed nose. “What’s up?” she rasps, and my knuckles find their way into kneading her back.

 

“Just checking on y’all,” Yuuko says. She doesn’t comment on us. “I was going to get my shut-eye if you were both out."

 

"Natsuki?” Nozomi asks.

 

"Sleeping like a dead log,” Yuuko replies. "I think that’s how she deals with things. Sleeping.”

 

Nozomi nods. She tries to move her right hand, but she’s clumsy, her elbow banging into me. I let out a soft yelp, and she winces, but otherwise works on adjusting, groping blindly for my hand. Yuuko watches this whole exchange in silence, and if I was her I wouldn’t be sure if it would’ve elicited empathy or sympathy.

 

“You wanna join us?” Nozomi invites.

 

Yuuko’s shoulders retreat into the sides of her chin. “I need music to sleep."

 

"We can just listen together,” Nozomi grins.

 

“Nozomi, you don’t-“

 

I feel Nozomi’s body tighten beneath me, but there’s no outward reaction from her. Yuuko collects herself, sighs, and places her mug on a nearby counter. "I mean fine. Sure. But all three of us? Mizore?"

 

"Why not?” I mumble, but loud enough for Yuuko to hear.

 

“We don’t er,” Yuuko starts. “Have anything to allow for. Three people to listen though. Unless you want to blast-“

 

“Simple enough,” Nozomi replies, and she starts getting up-

 

_Just a little bit longer-_

 

Her fingers linger, just a fraction on mine. And then she lets go.

 

“No need to fill the whole place with music. Anyway, creating weirdly specific items that are useless except in the most niche scenarios are exactly what the alchemiter’s for, no?”

 

I believe she’s studied alchemy so much that something as simple as this comes as second nature to her. Nozomi heads over to Natsuki’s machine, keys in whatever coordinates and codes, and out pops… a three-way earphone. As in, only three buds, instead of three pairs.

 

“What-“ Yuuko starts, before pinching the bridge of her nose, her body shaking with her chuckles. “Ah heck. Whatever. Why not. Yup. Just… make a earphone that we can only listen to on one side.”

 

“If I’m sleeping on my left or right, it’d be uncomfortable to have it in both ears, no?” Nozomi reasons.

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Yuuko says, as she scrounges around for extra pillows.

 

Nozomi returns to my side, and I make room for her on the couch. It’s a bit packed, but the both of us still fit. When Yuuko reenters the living room, she’s brought her phone as well, and plugs in the three-way earphone. She proceeds to lay a blanket on the open end of the couch to my right, as we place the earphones into our ears.

 

[{♪}](https://soundcloud.com/illeniumofficial/illenium-sleepwalker-ft-joni-fatora)

 

The acoustic guitar riff bolsters me, like a pair of arms I didn’t know I wanted. It tingles my ears, in a way pleasant enough, and I know that in some sense, Nozomi can ‘hear’ it.

 

"Will you be on Prospit?” Yuuko asks Nozomi. She doesn’t hear, and so I trace the words on the back of her palm.

 

“Yeah,” Nozomi replies. “I guess. I’ll just… be in my room."

 

"I’ll be with you,” Yuuko assures her. “At least for this night.”

 

Nozomi chuckles as I translate the words for her. “Thanks.” My heart does a small flip, hoping in some way it was directed at me as well. I know it was. But I should stop hoping. Hope is dangerous, when your fantasy doesn’t match reality, and all that’s left is disappointment-

 

"And we’ll be here with you.”

 

Nozomi’s thumb brushes against my calf as she drifts off into sleep, and I feel choked again. My face scrunched up as though by contorting it I can hold back the floodgates, as though if I allow myself to relax everything will be released.

 

“Hey, don’t worry,” Yuuko tells me, as she holds my arm dangling off the couch. “We’ll both be here. It’s alright.”

 

_You’re always in my dreams._

 

_Did you come to say goodbye?_

 

I don’t know what to think, what to feel. But the electronic mix crackles in my left ear, and my best friends - my only friends - hold me tight, my anchor, my harbour, my haven. As sleep claims me, my body finally relaxing, the rumbling tide within me subsiding, the fear also doesn’t creep in tonight.

 

Because even as I sleepwalk, my dream self lost to the abyss, I know that I am here. I know they are here with me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter’s soundscapes:  
> Immortal (MewOne!, Syberian Beast Remix) - Marina and the Diamonds  
> Sleepwalker (feat. Joni Fatora) - Illenium
> 
> update update: honestly, this chapter was a mess. it started out strong but then i got super stuck, probably more stuck than anything else in soundscape, and there came a point where i told myself i just need it to be out, so that i can move on. and i know it’s not going to get any easier.
> 
> i think this is the part in writing where the burning out happens. well, i did last a good 150k words, so that’s that, but i really need to find my stride again, and i want soundscape to be a project that i **finish**, above all else.
> 
> so let’s see. i hope i don’t jinx myself with the planning fallacy by saying this, but i hope to finish all of arc 4 by the end of the year (originally, in an ideal world, i would already be on arc 6, but we can’t always get what we want) and we’ll see how things carry on from there. soundscape will very likely last until the end of 2018, and i’m going to give it room to breathe so that it can both be done, and at the very least ‘not terrible’ as a finished work.
> 
> and getting on to the meat: i don’t think it’s a spoiler to say tsukuyomi’s coming next, for the next few chapters. i won’t start posting until that mini-arc is all done. and then we’ll see how to move forward from there keeping the goal (end of arc 4 by the end of the year) in mind.
> 
> a web-serial writer i respect stressed consistency above all else. it was a good run, but then again i’m supposed to be a full time student. which is not an excuse, but soundscape’s for me to learn. i’ll be better.
> 
> and hey. thanks for reading my story. it means a bunch.


	83. Halloween Special (Hazuki)

“Are you sure this is okay?”

 

“Of course! You look perrrr-fect!”

 

“I still don’t think-“

 

“Shh shh shhhhh… don’t ruin it. Tuba-kun doesn’t have a voice like yours. No offence.”

 

Why did I even agree to this costume party? It’s not even a fancy costume party, where Midori and I can bring out the dapper and the divine. But instead she coerced me into dressing up as her favourite character and frankly I’m not... feeling it. The fun vibes just aren’t here.

 

“Mi-do-riiii!” I hiss, almost whining. She’s all dolled up, not literally, but looking pretty and cute in a Victorian-like dress. Then she goes and um... confuses the whole aesthetic by throwing a brown robe over it all. Supposed to be a Princess Jedi, or something.

 

“There, there,” she says, hovering so she’s tall enough to pat the top of my costume. “It’s all going to be okay.”

 

Highly doubt it, I think to myself. Okay but fine, I guess I can be a good sport? I’m just not particularly feeling it right now, not when the laughing seems to be done at me, and not necessarily with me, and-

 

Oh. I can change this. I always can.

 

Suddenly, I stiffens my body, and Midori floats ahead none the wiser. Then she realizes that her gigantic mascot friend isn’t by her side, and doubles back.

 

“Hey, Hazuki? You alr-“

 

"Want,” I say, making my voice as deep and hoarse, which each word said deliberately and slowly. “To be free."

 

“That’s… creepy,” Midori winces. She knows what I’m playing around as.

 

Without warning, my hands shoot out, grabbing her.

 

“Free. …frEE! FREE ME!!” I continue, raising my voice, shaking Midori by the shoulder.

 

She freezes under my touch, petrified as her facial expression gardens into fear. "I came out to have a good time, and honestly I’m feeling so attacked right now.”

 

“At...tacked?” I croak, cranking my head to the side as best as I can. The bulky costume dampens all nuance, and as I vibrate my head somehow the other smaller movements I use to compensate don’t come across, and the image I want to deliver comes across as vivid as ever.

 

Midori squeaks, clearly uncomfortable in my grasp.

 

And then with my stubby fingers, I reach down, and begin tickling at her sides.

 

“TICKLE ATTACK!"

 

She shrieks with laughter, and makes a show out of squirming from my grasp - I mean, if she really wanted to get out, she could do so easily with her abilities - as we run across a road of maple tinted leaves in the Land of Incense and Autumn.

 

Fall flavours fill the air, and even behind the mascot head, I can taste hints of caramelised apple and blackberries, and there’s a whiff of cinnamon and ginger. As we chase each other down the viridian river banks, the cool air rustles the leaves with our footsteps, as we head over to Kaori’s place. That’s where we’re getting this party started-

 

“Umm…”

 

Kaori’s house… I mean. I haven’t been here before, but it sure doesn’t look like her house.

 

I turn to Midori. "You didn’t tell me… it was going to be a haunted house."

 

"It… isn’t supposed to be?” she says, looking equally confused. "I mean, they didn’t tell me anything other than it’s costume-themed…”

 

“Should we..?”

 

“Yeah, I guess,” Midori shrugs. “There’s no other house like this here at all. It’s probably some… thing…”

 

The house emanates a certain obsidian sheen, reminding me of a gothic style. It isn’t just decorations, it’s a makeover. I find it hard that she literally reconstructed her house for this, but then again, nothing’s impossible.

 

Midori places a tentative finger on the double doors - who even has actual double doors? - and glances to me for confirmation. All I can offer her is a shrug.

 

When we push open the doors, all we’re greeted with is a musky darkness. Not even a sliver of sinister light from some stained glass window.

 

“Hello?” I call out, stepping in. "Is… is anybody in?”

 

“That’s a stupid question, Hazuki,” Midori chides. She follows me in, and the door closes behind us. "Of course somebody's in. That’s exactly what you’d ask, what they’d want you to ask in a horror-“

 

[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a-qVNSQAkXc)

 

And then the lights start flickering on, blinking in cascading ripples throughout the house before settling into an eerie glow highlighting the subject in the middle of it all.

 

“Oh hi!” Asuka chirps. “It’s me again."

 

“Asuka?” Midori replies.

 

"I missed you," she giggles. Asuka’s in a typical witch’s outfit, but there’s something terribly wrong...

 

“Okay,” Midori holds her hands up. “That’s-“

 

The bones in Asuka’s neck seems to crack, a maniacal grin on her face. “You seem a little nervous, my little children~”

 

House lights are changing colour now, white into neon colours, and there’s a low hanging mist surrounding us, actually chilly to the touch. I find myself shivering despite the sweaty costume, the tingling not just from the temperature. Midori’s teeth are chattering, and Asuka rises up on her broom, arms raised like a conductor-

 

I see the strings at her fingertips, just as I feel a tugging against the tip of my head, and there’s the most curious sensation of there being a hook latched to the bottom of my spine, with a string following the perfect curve of the back, and now it’s stretching tighter, reeling in-

 

Asuka disappears.

 

The line through our body becomes perfectly taut, and there’s a feeling of dread right behind us.

 

_“I’m back~”_

 

Before we can turn-

 

_**“BOO!”** _

 

She glitches in front of us just like a jump scare, booping our noses, before the lights go all ham and she flickers away just in time. The house is immediately transformed into a fever dream, a nightmare, smoke and light colliding as the ground seems to fall away from us, and we’re both floating, without any semblance of orientation, vertigo gripping us.

 

Asuka drags our attention, the light forming a straight line towards her. Her pupils are slits, her tongue is forked, and her broom seems to arch and coil and writhe beneath her as the frenzied light show picks up. When she speaks, there’s an echo in her voice, and it sounds like a sweet apple laced with venom.

 

“I control you,” she sings. “Just as in a game…”

 

The string seems to tug at us, my hips almost jerked forward, enraptured by her magics.

 

“But don’t try to fight me back.”

 

Midori doesn’t seem capable of heeding her warning, but it’s useless. We’re in it now.

 

“You can’t break me,” Asuka taunts as we struggle. Her reptilian eyes pierce us as her lipless grin stretches from eye to eye. “Try it, and you shall sleep!”

 

The force of her declaration pushes us back, as she slinks away into the shadows, the lights pulsing amidst the fog. They converge with pinpoint precision, forming a flashing ring leaving the nexus in darkness, as the silhouette of a figure rises from beneath it, not Asuka, mysterious and imposing and the lights enter into a catatonic seizure with flawless synergy-

 

Everything cuts off, save a single spotlight illuminating the lone figure in the room. They have a pumpkin head.

 

_“I’m back.”_

 

The space explodes into a celebration of phantasmagoria, a chorus of ghosts of all shapes and sizes and forms coming out of nowhere, dancing, raving, I don’t know. The pumpkin headed figure waltzes into center stage, boogying hard to the dropped beat. Was there music? I wasn’t even aware there was music, that’s how much the visuals have been gripping me-

 

Asuka cackles from the corner of my eye, a witch, a snake, a puppeteer. She choreographs the scene, each poltergeist with random earthly accessories to spice things up. One ghost has a hat and cane, another with a necklace of beads, a third with a scarf and sneakers. Each their own unique caricature of a character. Six pairs of tap dancing shoes with no mortal or ghostly figured attached to them spring to life, clacking away at a makeshift pavement, possessed by the rhythm of the crowd. I don’t know how I’m noticing all this at once, it’s like the images and words are burned into my mind, the scene imprinted in my head seemingly clearer than reality. There’s something Artaudian - I don’t even know what that word means! - about it all, the way fear reaches into your chest and caresses your heart - how am I having all these morbid thoughts oh my! - in a way that’s not a metaphor. The fear is here and it’s primal, raw, an intense spectacle and you cannot ignore it, you cannot look away-

 

Then it dissipates, darkness consuming all besides a twin pair of lights, fluttering, trembling, until-

 

“You. Are. Unprepared.”

 

Asuka is addressing us against, her sweetly sick voice grating against my blood.

 

“I could swear, you are really scared.”

 

“No shit!” Midori manages to reply.

 

“It. Is like. A magic show,” Asuka continues, keeping up her performance. “A darker flow. I won’t let you go~”

 

Her hands on my shoulder, and I can feel her breath on the nape of my neck. She leans in, lips barely brushing against my ears-

 

“I’m here."

 

The pumpkin headed figure advances towards us, towards Asuka. Their cape billows out from behind them, and each movement is fluid, each step firmly rooted even in the void. They extend a hand towards Asuka, pointing at her, before dragging their thumb across their neck, and then giving her a thumbs down.

 

Asuka mocks surprise, before retreating, pulling us with her with her arcane string.

 

“I control you, just as in a game~”

 

Her words crawl at the back of my head, even though I know they’re not addressed to me. As she repeats the arc words, a third character materialises from the shadows, in front of us, in between the pumpkin headed figure and us. It is unmistakably-

 

“ _Kaori-senpai?_ ” Midori cheeps.

 

There’s a feather in her cap, her garb as green as the forest, a shroud over her shoulders and meticulous stitching holding her attire together. There’s a short sword hanging from the side of her belt, and she draws it, facing the pumpkin headed figure.

 

Asuka jerks her hand, and Kaori moves.

 

I see where this is going.

 

In slow motion, I watch as Kaori swings the sword at the pumpkin headed figure, watch the blade connect with the base of the pumpkin, a clean strike as she moves through the figure, lithe and dexterous, the silent scream emerging from my mouth as the pumpkin gets lobbed off the figure, rolling on an absent floor towards us, as the figure falls backwards. And then I watch in blood-curdling horror as the figure seems to rewind itself, moving back just before it hits the floor, headless, except not really, something seeming to grow and emerge and-

 

Haruka’s head pops out, all pale and mottled, and she gives us the most haunting smile I’ve ever seen.

 

“I’m back. _Boo!_ ”

 

Colour erupts in the space once again, fountains of light dazzling and spraying, distortions flinging their arms about as the poltergeists resurface, ready to party the night away. Haruka sticks her arms out, and then bunny-hops towards us, her attire entirely different now. A kyon-shi, if I’m getting my folktales right, a kind of zombie originating from Chinese myth. Kaori joins her, as various elements in the room consistently swap, leaving nothing to chance.

 

I see Midori half-passed out, floating with a vacant expression in her eyes.

 

The remaining moments building up to the climactic finale are a blur. There’s a clatter of spoopy skeletons jazzing it out in one corner, a quartet holding instruments but clearly not playing them. The pumpkin continues to roll about without any purpose or direction, swerving about while the carved expression remains animated, making a different funny face anytime someone stares at it. There’s dancing of every sort, ghosts just shimmying things up, getting low and down, and Asuka flies above it all, her hands a whirlwind, her fingers a routine all on its own. There’s a snake around her neck now, and I can’t quite tell how real it is.

 

Kaori raises her sword, and all the lights converge at its tip, and the music enters its last beat, and all the performers enter their final pose. And then her sword falls, along with some actual curtains, and the light descends. It’s over.

 

Like the first moments of a brand new morning, the normal lights start to fade in. I stumble on the floor - there’s a floor again - attempting to get my orientation. The place is a mess, and the poltergeists, are just hanging about, although the crowd of them is getting thinning. Midori is lying on the floor, chest heaving, wondering about the meaning of life.

 

“Haruka!” I blurt out, the first thing that comes to mind. “It was you behind the pumpkin? I was… so scared! I thought y’all actually killed someone!”

 

Kaori walks over, chuckling. She picks up a cube from the ground, and shows it to me. “Camouflage cube that we alchemized. Pretty neat, huh? Her head never left her shoulders, it was just all some sort of special effects, really. We alchemised a lot of things for this.”

 

Asuka bounds over, popping out her snake-eye contacts as she grins with glee. “So how did you like my performance, my beloved juniors?”

 

“ _Our_ performance,” Haruka elbows her, but Asuka’s still high on her adrenaline to correct herself.

 

“Midori needs help, I think,” I offer, and the third years burst into chuckles at our reaction. I guess that’s enough for them.

 

“I will never go for a costume party ever again,” Midori mumbles, as Haruka helps her to her feet. “Kaori-senpai, I trusted you.”

 

Kaori only gives an apologetic shrug. “Well… it was Asuka’s idea.”

 

“When is it not her idea?” Haruka laughs, steadying Midori.

 

“But it worked out perfectly!” Asuka spreads her arms, triumphant. “When has it not?”

 

“A thousand times,” Haruka pokes back. “But that’s besides the point. I don’t regret doing this.” She looks back at Midori, recovering from her state of being traumatised, and a pang of guilt sprouts from her gestures. “Sorry, Midori."

 

Midori nods numbly, before a grin starts to spread on her face. “Apology accepted. I mean… I’m still shocked, but. That was freaking. Amazing.”

 

Haruka beams with pride at that.

 

“You know,” I start, wondering how the after party’s going to be like if there’s already a ton to clean up. “This is awesome fun and all but… what was the point?”

 

“Is there a need for a point?” Asuka calls out, and she’s already arranging everything back, amassing the army of ghosts to start setting things straight.

 

“Well, I know we don’t particularly celebrate it, and it’s not exactly the time of year,” Kaori grins. “But, Happy Halloween, girls.”

 

Oh. I can’t believe… I didn’t really think of that. That makes. Perfect sense. Here in Sburb… we can just celebrate whatever we want, whenever we want. And that’s immensely liberating.

 

“Yeah,” I say, returning the grin. "Happy Halloween."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter soundscape:
> 
> The Return - NIVIRO
> 
> happy (belated) halloween! here's a special i just had to churn out for er... fun. it's nice to procrastinate on the main story, you know? and well yes, this is completely fanon, but also has absolutely no bearing on the actual storyline (is the lie i'm saying, have fun trying to decode the 3110 obscure symbols of foreshadowing embedded in this 2.5k word digression)
> 
> see y'all when i see y'all. and hey. thanks for reading my story.


	84. 侘寂 Quartet 4.3.4 (Nozomi)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're back.

Dawn breaks the back of the mountains into two, splitting the cleavage of the valley down the center with a spectacle of sky.

 

At Skaia’s first light, we begin our venture into the caverns. There’s no lack of sleep, but the expedition is lethargic. I pray that we can shake off the feeling with each step, that moving will energise us. It’s go time.

 

We have to take the long route. Tsukuyomi remains an enigma. Who knows what machinations the denizen has planned for us if we just jump straight to the end via the seventh gate? Better to be safe than sorry, to chart out a course through the caves that are home to the oni. Better to act in the absence of the moon. Tsukuyomi will know this, and we will be prepared.

 

Natsuki’s bringing along an entourage of forty. Forty hand-picked oni, the most resilient and loyal. Ruinaulta takes point with Aegis, flanking her ten and two o’ clock. Suntory’s with me, my eyes and crucially, my ears.

 

Towards the back, Yuuko’s with Mizore, keeping her company. I would join her, but I’m the nexus of the mission. Natsuki likes to think that she’s got everything covered, but I know that this lives and dies on me. I have to look ahead.

 

If it’s any consolation, the strongest and brutish are sweepers. Padma and Kyros and Infante. I can’t imagine anything short of Tsukuyomi himself would stop them. I wouldn’t want to be on their bad side.

 

“There,” Ruinaulta, points out, and I nod to confirm. There’s a crack in the face of one of the cavern walls, our entrance point into the labyrinth of the earth.

 

We’re in the snake’s territory from here on out.

 

[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NOsFQ-VUeMw)

 

The caverns chant in hushed secrets, the wind rushing through nooks and crannies, whistling with urgency. They hide things from me, and I do my best to focus on my shimmering bird above head. There’s another with Natsuki up front. Floating lanterns accompany the formation every four meters or so. The ground convulses with each unified step the oni take, feeling very much like the heartbeat of the earth as we walk through its arteries.

 

Darkness is a pit, an escalation, a ladder. You can grovel your way out, attempt to climb, but if you cannot conquer it conclusively, it will take bits and pieces away from you.

 

Even with my prismatic constructs, it’s not enough to illuminate more than a few feet ahead of us. The shadows are thicker than tar, an inky, impenetrable suffocation. 

 

We’re going down, towards the center of the planet. Deeper into the pit. I have to remind myself that any other source of light besides mine is not an ally. Tsukuyomi lures and deceives. We will not let ourselves be caught.

 

For purely aesthetic reasons, I accentuate the wavelengths of yellow, orange light. Mimicking fire. Simulating warmth. If I can keep the narrative straight, of adventurers wandering into a dungeon, raiding and defeating the beast that lurks within, and to make it out with the treasure it’s guarding, then maybe I can get a better grip on this all. It helps that the oni are essentially like a friendly native species that act as our guides. They would be in tune with the rhythms of the caverns, and we would be the cartographers of this underworld.

 

The air becomes more stale the deeper we go. At least there’s only the four of us. Yuuko’s not allowed to use fire unless it’s a last resort, for this reason alone. Every little edge counts. Tsukuyomi will be counting on us to slip up, exploit the tiniest weaknesses and chinks in our armour. I will not give anything to him. Nothing that I can’t already control.

 

I reassess my mental state every few minutes. I’m counting the seconds. I’ve already briefed the others on the exercises, the questions. “Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing?”, “What are the feelings I’m having right now?”, “On a scale of 1-10, how compromised is my mental state?”. Quantifiable, actionable answers.

 

My name is Kasaki Nozomi. I am walking underneath the Land of Oni and Caverns, on the way towards defeating Tsukuyomi. I am feeling enervated, and fearful, but these are normal under the given circumstances. I am also feeling determined. My mental state is wavering by otherwise resilient, and I would place myself at a 5.

 

Anything above a 8 or below a 3 is bad news. Tsukuyomi lulling us into a false sense of security would reach the lower limit of that bracket. The safety nets are there to catch us. I am here to catch the others. And in turn-

 

I jerk on reflex, even as the tap on my shoulder is as gentle as can be. The paranoia of the darkness. Maybe I’ll have to adjust that to a 7.

 

“Suntory?”

 

“I’m sorry, Nozomi,” they say. No lips to read, but I place my hand on the oni, and the vibrations of the rock allow me to understand them. "I didn’t ensure your arm was on me.”

 

“That’s fine,” I wave them off. “You were saying?”

 

Suntory’s emerald eye whirs, the light reflected shifting. “I just wanted to check on you. Make sure you’re alright.”

 

“I am,” I manage to smile. “Thank you.”

 

“It’s okay to say no,” they reply. “I know it’s tough.”

 

“Well,” I shrug. “So what if it’s a no? We stop the whole mission? Pull out now?”

 

“That’s what you told the others-“

 

“That’s for them!” I snap back. I am suddenly very glad that I’m not with any of the other three. Taking deep breaths, I take note to adjust my voice to be softer, as I’m still unsure of how loud I might be, how sound might travel here. “If anything’s wrong with any of them, they get out. But I’ll soldier on.”

 

I feel the exaggerated gesture Suntory makes, a signal that it’s them and not anyone else. I feel the behemoth arm wrap around my torso, and my body tenses. But Suntory holds the position, until I let my weight drop against me, my body slack. They lift me up, and place me on their shoulder.

 

“Gently now, soldier,” they say, ensuring that my skin still remains in contact with their rock. “We are a unit. We march together. We fight together. We leave no one behind.”

 

I let myself close my eyes, let myself choose the darkness. Suntory’s voice, whatever I can make out of it, is a calming hum, smooth like the liquor of their name. As the vibrations trickle through me, they unknot my anxieties, taking the creases in my psyche and evening it out. I feel myself returning to balance, to equilibrium.

 

My name is  am walking underneath the Land of Oni and Caverns, on the way towards defeating Tsukuyomi.

 

“Suntory?” I ask. 

 

I am feeling at ease, even as the mounting pressure and fear builds up, and it is because my companion is calming me down.

 

“Yes?”

 

My mental state is at peace. I would place myself at a 3.5.

 

“What do you think about this?”

 

“By this I assume you’re referring to the mission?”

 

I place my head against theirs. “I don’t know. I guess. Tsukuyomi, and all.”

 

Suntory nods in acknowledgement. Saying the denizen’s name elicits a reaction of sorts. Imagine the earth grunting, issuing an ultimatum.

 

“I do not now if we can win,” Suntory replies. "I mean this in the sense that we might not get the victory we want. This fight is going to be as unpredictable as ever. There’s nothing we can ever know for certain.”

 

They bring one of their four fingers up, and I place both hands around it. It’s like hugging a tree.

 

"But I do know that Tsukuyomi is the embodiment of all that is wrong and distorted in this world. I do know that the four of you are capable of taking him on. That you are the saviours that were promised to us all.”

 

Then, the ground quakes, the darkness closes its jaws, and we are swallowed into the pit.

 

.

 

.

 

* * *

 

.

 

.

 

“… is everyone…”

 

.

 

“…zomi! Nozomi..!”

 

[[♪]](https://soundcloud.com/tusharlall/harry-potter-music-indian-tribute-indian-jam-project)

 

There’s a murmur in the air. Like electricity… no… imagine the buzzing of a bulb, but fainter, more subtle. It’s charged with something arcane, like the tail end of a genie smoking from a lamp, the tendrils reaching outward and coiling about my body in a tenuous, nebulous hold. Then, it dissipates, but still lingers, like a taste of bitter cherries and sour metals.

 

Natsuki’s helping me up, and I steady myself, surveying my surroundings. I’m running on instinct now, muscle memory of the mind, and the questions strike as surely as lightning hits the earth during a storm.

 

My name is Kasaki Nozomi.  I am walking underneath the Land of Oni and Caverns, on the way towards defeating Tsukuyomi. I am panicked, due to having recently regained consciousness. I am not sure how compromised my mental state might be. I am n-

 

“Nozomi!” Natsuki shouts, shaking me. “Are you alright?”

 

“I’m…” I mutter, before setting my jaw and buzzing my lips. Anything to get the muscles working again. “What happened?”

 

“An earthquake of sorts, I think,” she replies. “Probably Tsukuyomi’s doing. Just a disturbance, no one’s seriously injured. At least no one yet. Do we have to worry? Do we have to call it-“

 

I hold up a finger and press it against her lips. “No, we don’t. If Yuuko and Mizore and alright, we continue-“

 

“Are you sure? We-“

 

I give her a determined glance. “Check on the oni. It was just a disturbance, right?”

 

Natsuki’s expression hardens, she nods, and surfs down the line to reconfirm everyone’s condition.

 

Suntory’s hunched over to my left. The quake must’ve sent them into a level of shock, but I might be the only one who fell over and knocked my head. Okay, I don’t think I lost consciousness, maybe I’m just disoriented from the concussion.

 

My mental state was close to compromised, but it is stabilising. I would place myself at a 6.5.

 

“Everything alright?” I ask.

 

Suntory just nods, stone grinding against stone. The corridor is narrower now, almost constricting, some of the oni straining against the space with the smaller headroom. Tsukuyomi must’ve displaced the earth with the quake. We can continue, but the trek is going to be tougher.

 

Nothing I didn’t already expect.

 

I send out a bird to scout the area ahead, to ensure that the topography hasn’t changed drastically. The oni recollect themselves, and Natsuki returns, giving me a thumbs up before heading to front, resuming formation.

 

We’ll carry on.

 

As my lanterns light up the caverns, there’s a tinge of indigo to it now, mostly white light. I try to control it, but it seems that I have to strain hard, so I don’t bother. Have to conserve energy. 

 

Despite the earlier disturbance, it’s almost as though I had the sluggishness knocked out of me. The caverns no longer have the same hold over my psyche, even in the blueish hue. The light skims across the surface of the walls like ripples over a pond, reflections in the night. As my scout returns to me, we have our bearings.

 

The next half hour or so we spend navigating the tough terrain. Oni squeeze through the more compact space, through the meanders of the Daedalian underground. Four times, almost missed a turn, and twice we had to carve out our own path, stopping to gnaw against the fissures in the way, pry open the scars of the earth. We want to return to an unaffected path. Even Tsukuyomi can’t shake up the entire underground.

 

Our rearguard barely finish making it through the hole we burrowed through when the rumbling resumes. Not as violent as the first time, but significant enough that it’s affecting my ability to communicate with the oni.

 

It comes in waves, with hardly any time to catch a breath. It picks back up the moment it subsides, oscillating in intensity, from a 2 to 3 on the Richter scale. I hold myself against Suntory, but there’s no response. Or at the very least nothing I can gather. They’re not giving me any clues either.

 

Natsuki comes rushing to me, turning tail. “What’s happening?” she shouts, as though shouting over the rumbling would help a deaf person hear. Can’t blame her instincts.

 

“I can’t get anything. It’s really disrupting my senses-"

 

“What?” she asks. Oh yeah, she has to hear.

 

I repeat my statement, and impatient, Natsuki shoots off to the rear.

 

And then it stops. Exactly eight seconds of reprieve.

 

The screech that echoes from the tunnels is so distinct, that without even knowing exactly what I’m up against, I already have an idea.

 

“Oh, worm.”

 

Then the quake returns. Hikes up to a 4 on Richter. Bordering on 5. 

 

Natsuki comes streaking back to the front, wreathed in a comet trail of white.

 

“RUN!”

 

The thunderous stampede drowns out anything else that might’ve been said after. I send out five birds at once, guides and scouts, sprinting forward but keeping to a side, so that the oni can plough through. I have to ensure that everyone’s alright, control the situation.

 

Suntory attempts to scoop me up, but something in my demeanour must’ve informed them about my intention. They head off with the rush.

 

I allow the crowd to weave through me, jostling for space and survival, and as I reach the rear, I spot the silhouettes of Yuuko and Mizore, brief smudges of colour, and then they’re gone, lost in the cacophony of rock. At least they’re fine. 

 

“Infante! Padma!” I cry out, doubling up my orders with signals of light. "We’ll hold the fort!”

 

We’re still running ahead, even as we prepare for battle, to slow down the beast behind us. Both oni flank me, and as I look over my shoulder, I catch flashes of writhing purple, no doubt a minion of Tsukuyomi thrashing about, a demi-denizen, if you will.

 

“Steady!” I shout, materialising one more bird and a shield. Even with the adrenaline kicking into overdrive, I can feel the lactic acid in my thighs accumulating, the frenetic strain of my heart aching to keep up. Infante hauls me onto their shoulder, child's play for the largest of all the oni. As I gasp for air, with a clear view of the darkness tunnelling behind us, I still can’t properly see the threat. Nothing more than slashes of teeth and a stirring in the never receding shadows.

 

“Hol-!”

 

The break.

 

Light dazzles, almost disorienting. The caverns and monsters and the pit all recede, and I’m startled by a breath of freshness, and I find myself on the ground, my chest working the hardest its ever been.

 

But… we’re safe.

 

My name is... Kasaki Nozomi. I am underneath… the Land of Caverns and…

 

I look up as I catch my breath, and all around the oni are safe. Everyone’s recollecting themselves, but in this strange area I haven’t expected-

 

My prismatic birds swoop to eye level, before soaring again - there’s enough space for them to ascend. We’re in a vast, vast clearing of sorts, a marvel of nature, and it’s almost an oasis. There’s just so much water, a reservoir of it, like a lake in the middle of nowhere, rapids coursing into the main body from high above.

 

It’s unreal that something like this exists down here, and it’s… beautiful. Mesmerizing, and we could just rest here, forever, the rest we all need, that I need. It’s so… alluring.

 

My name is Kasaki Nozomi. I am in paradise. 

 

All I can think to myself, is that we’re here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it begins.  
> expect updates on thursday and saturday.
> 
> chapter soundscapes:  
> Trøllabundin - Eivør  
> Harry Potter Music Indian Tribute | Indian Jam Project - Tushar Lall


	85. 侘寂 Quartet 4.1.3 (Yuuko)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update. this one's a real doozy.  
> next one will drop within <24 hours

Sugar, spice, and everything nice.

 

Ribbons and bows, don’t have to tell me twice.

 

[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NROzG-IGNgs)

 

“Daddy, daddy! Don’t I look nice?”

 

“Mummy, mummy! Aren’t I cute?”

 

A flourish and a twirl, dresses made out of swirls. Pink and yellow, candy floss and lip gloss. A smile to top things off, turn the fairy tale into a wonderland.

 

“You’re such a good girl, Yuuko.”

 

“What a pretty child! She’ll grow up to be an angel.”

 

“Better keep the boys away from her. Those rascals won’t be able to control themselves around her.”

 

~

 

Sitting at the water’s edge, barely older than ten. The night ripples across the pond in splendour, the fireflies bringing warmth to the otherwise cool scene.

 

I’m here. In a dainty kimono. It’s some festival, maybe with lanterns, maybe with fireworks. My parents are somewhere, maybe. There are swans in the lake, and Mishiro’s talking about ballet, about breaking into the world stage, the first Japanese prima in Europe. She talks about the purity of white, of Swan Lake, of fouettes, jetés, and the pas de deux with a green-eyed, blonde boy of her dreams, sprightly and lean. Someone mentions the bulge at the crotch. Everyone bursts into childish giggles.

 

Mishiro asks if I can play the piano for her. A dreamy waltz, maybe, or something cutesy. We are all talking about pretty things like they will always be the future, and that we are the princesses to life’s fairytale.

 

“Hey, hey! What’s it like to kiss someone?”

 

“Go practice on a frog!”

 

“Ew!”

 

“It’s from a Western fairytale, go look it up, sheesh.”

 

“Why frogs though?”

 

“Because they’ll become a handsome prince!”

 

“Western stories are weird.”

 

“Everything’s probably weird when you’re not familiar with it.”

 

“Huh. That might be the smartest thing you’ve ever said.”

 

“Kisses!”

 

“You need to keep it in, Megumi!”

 

“Hnng… not like there are any boys here.”

 

“We can just practice with each other!”

 

“And play pretend?”

 

“Why do we need to pretend to be boys? We’re all girls here,”

 

“That’s not how it works, Yuuko! There’s always a guy, and a girl.”

 

“Huh.”

 

“Who’s gonna be the guy?”

 

“Who wants to go first!”

 

“Megumi will just slobber all over you. Better make sure she watches and learns first.”

 

“That’s not fair!”

 

"Sho-chan better not get to go first too.”

 

“Fine. Mishiro?”

 

“I’m not complaining if you’re offering. Would you do the honours, Yuuko?”

 

“I... sure..!”

 

“Who’s going to be the guy though?”

 

“Must we really?”

 

“Of course, Yuuko! Then whoever it is has to do it really manly-like!”

 

“Erm.”

 

“We’re all totally not manly though.”

 

“But Mishiro’s way cuter than Yuuko! No offense.”

 

I bite my lip. My bangs and two tails might put up a good fight, but she has the perfect coiffed ponytail paired with a Hello Kitty hairband. And with her dress having more frills than cloth, striped socks, even lip gloss... there’s no way I can compete.

 

“I guess... I’ll be the guy,” I volunteer, even though it was never really a choice.

 

Our lips touch, and I’ve never really been the same.

 

* * *

[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XBXgFJfsXxk)

 

The opposite of a snap.

 

It’s not gradual. It’s not a fade. It’s like a shift, but not sudden. In between worlds, in between states. I blink twice, and then again, and there’s still a blurriness to it all. I don’t know what’s happening, though I ought to. I’m just walking along, the oni marching in lockstep around me. Nozomi’s lantern continues to illuminates the caves, visible in the distance. Everything has this uncannily calm, polished glow.

 

“Hey, I just had a thought.”

 

Mizore’s still next to me. 

 

“Yeah?” I reply.

 

“You can’t know for certain that whenever you close your mouth, that your teeth don’t disappear and recede into your gums.”

 

“That’s um. A morbid thought.”

 

“It’s true, though,” she replies.

 

“No…” I frown. "I can lick them.”

 

“Are you sure that’s your teeth?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Why?”

 

“Maybe because the texture of my tongue on my teeth is the same whether or not I close my mouth?”

 

“Oh, but just because something feels the same, doesn’t mean it is the same, is it?”

 

“Why are we speaking in questions?” I chuckle. "Geez, Mizore, what does this have to do with anything?”

 

“Just a thought,” she shrugs, her tone wistful. "Because when you close your eyes, they do roll back in your head, and in fact you can even do that without your eyes closed-“

 

Just then, I experience the singularly weird sensation of being conscious as my eyes roll back into my skull, and everything drops away, and I am here, but not here, falling, falling, falling...

 

* * *

[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BKjwSp94n8s)

 

“What did he say?”

 

“That you’re a filthy little slut!”

 

“Stop. You don’t know what that word means.”

 

"But you do. That’s what matters.”

 

“Don’t be a child. You know better.”

 

“And what are you gonna do, huh?”

 

“Leave it, Yuuko.”

 

“Yeah leave it, Miss Prim and Proper. You’re just acting cute to attract attention."

 

“You’ve got your head so far up your ass you don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

 

“Do I?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Stop answering me with a question that’s nothing more than trolling.”

 

“Trolling?”

 

“Yuuko-“

 

“We’re done here.”

 

“Yeah. You’re done! Go back whining to your teachers, bending over and showing them your barely developed cleavage-“

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“-you’re all so fake, having to prop yourselves up with padding-“

 

“One more word-“

 

“Yuuko!”

 

“-so you can preen and pose for those pedophi-“

 

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“…please! Yuuko, you have to understand.”

 

“He was in the wrong!”

 

“I know! It is his fault for saying what he did. And I am proud that you stood up for yourself and your friend, but why did you have to hit him?”

 

“I…”

 

“Violence is not the answer. Definitely not becoming for a young lady like you.”

 

“Mum, but-“

 

“No buts! We are better than this! Are you a boy? Are fists your answer?”

 

“Then what should I have done?”

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“You’re my intelligent, beautiful girl. You’ll figure it out."

 

* * *

 

“That’s right! Tilt your head upwards a bit more! Shoulders back, Yuuko.”

 

“Lovely smile! Just one more!”

 

“Beautiful! You have such an adorable daughter. Very, very lucky.”

 

“She’s so cute! Mm… yes. Can we have both hands on your hips like that? Oh… feisty. I like it.”

 

“When did she start wearing the ribbon? It suits her very much. I like it.”

 

“Thank you for today, Yuuko! We hope to work with you soon.”

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“Dad, must I still go for all those photoshoots?”

 

“What’s the matter, Yuuko? Are they mistreating you? You must tell us immediately-“

 

“No… it’s just…”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I’m not always comfortable with having to look cute and pretty all the time.”

 

“But dear… isn’t that what you’ve always enjoyed doing?”

 

“I guess?”

 

“Then what’s the problem? Are they making you wear inappropriate outfits?”

 

“No..! I mean, they’re all very decent but… it’s not just the outfits, or the poses, or any one element. It’s the whole thing. I… I’m not sure I want to continue looking cute and girly all the time.”

 

“Oh, Yuuko… but that’s what you do best, isn’t it?”

 

“I know, but…”

 

“We can pull it anytime. You know that. We love you. But, this is how we pay for your music lessons, dear. Even if we scale things down, find different magazines and photographers… the pay would be lower. Plus, everyone can see where your talents lie.”

 

“…being cute?”

 

“Not just cute! You are a young lady, Yuuko! Make full use of that advantage!”

 

“But…”

 

“Yes?”

 

“It’s just… I’m playing into such a stereotypical view of femininity… it’s no fun any more. It’s getting uncomfortable, almost, with how skewed and extreme each shoot tends to be.”

 

“As I’ve said, we can pull the plug anytime. But there are always going to be costs.”

 

“I’m… going to have to think about this.”

 

“Take your time.”

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

* * *

 

It’s dark.

 

Maybe I’ve seen it in a dream before. I don’t know. Neon crackling in the sky above, zig-zag arcs above a desert of pyramids.

 

The scene shifts. Tombs. Then crypts. Mounds. Oscillating, like film on a wheel.

 

I’m in a cavern, now.

 

It’s dark.

 

I’m in a corridor.

 

The hallway is narrow, claustrophobic. Pale blue light invites me from the door that’s ajar. 

 

“Hello..?”

 

I see the way the light pulses, the flash of a camera. If I strain my ears I can hear the click. The way shadows stir as the poses change. I’m not sure how I know this, I just do.

 

My fingers press against the door. I don’t want to confirm what’s behind it, but I have to. Something within me compels each step forward, even as I have this sick feeling that something is terribly, terribly wrong.

 

The door gives away to a vast room, tiled floors with vast, overhanging lights and screens. Steam pours out from the vents of a convoluted, metallic structure, almost like a large mechanical snake stirring.

 

There’s a photographer here. He’s clicking away, but all I can see are the spectre of two hands, each almost as large as a whale, ominous and engulfing everything, the subjects, the girls-

 

My father - he’s not my father, just wearing his face - walks up to me, features there but off, and he smiles. “Yuuko! So glad you could join us! We were waiting-“

 

I push him aside, walking forward. From the corner of my eye I see my mother approaching me, and I use my power to widen the distance. I become painfully aware of eyes staring at me. Someone, something, somewhere-

 

The room shifts, a nightmare, and suddenly I’m on a carpet, a road that’s never-ending, a catwalk, and to my sides are girls. Faceless girls, as young as 7 or 8 and some old enough to be in college. And then I spot me. Traces of me, versions of me, ages of me, popping out in the crowd here and there, scattered. They turn towards me, open their mouth, unspeaking. They all turn towards me, open their mouths, unspeaking.

 

I quicken my pace, the photographer just here and a million miles away, the catwalk stretching, the mechanical whir looming above us, the flashes just clicking away.

 

“Hey!” I shout out. The hands are closing in. I see it holding a few girls in its clutches. “Hey! Let them go!”

 

The mechanical snake shifts its gaze, like a one-eyed god, staring down at me, and I can’t stop here.

 

My will casts itself further, stronger, emanating from me like a shadow bursting forward, the light behind me at an angle that will only bring it further.

 

It occurs to me that the hands are its hands. That the photographer is just a visage, an extension, a projection in the shape of a human of some insidious power. The mechanical snake. The industry. Society.

 

I see my friends. Nozomi. Mizore. Natsuki. Contorted to unrealistic shapes, proportions all wrong, encased in film and glass and remembered forever, images to be consumed, to be craved, to be reproduced-

 

“No, no, no, no!"

 

I exert every last drop of me, to intimidate, to fill up, to dominate completely. Take everything back, take my friends back, take myself back. Tears streak down my face and I don’t know why, I just want to tear it all apart. Destroy everything. Bring it back as mine. Me. Me. Me.

 

“NO!”

 

[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wS0bNMLuqIY)

 

The scene changes at once. Two photographs one after another, almost non-sequitur. Nozomi’s on the floor. Not moving. I move to her side, shake her.

 

“Nozomi..! Come on…”

 

Mizore is blank. I don’t know. Worse than when I saw her in her basement. I cry out to her, the words unable to travel across this gulf that cannot be closed, and I watch her drift away, everything spiralling out of control.

 

The ground tilts, upends and Natsuki is somewhere here, but far away, and I need her.

 

Dry.

 

It’s suddenly all so dry. It’s all melting, and I’m so thirsty. It’s unbearable.

 

I pour more of myself out, as though this could fix anything. It’s like when you’re trapped in a lift, in a locked room, and all you can do is scream, to bang against the walls, anything to make it seem like you’ve tried your best even when everything seems useless.

 

My body feels like splitting. I’ve given so much of myself it’s almost like another ‘me’ has formed, everything I’m not. Confident, persistent, a hero. The comedy to my tragedy. She walks forward, and I follow, and there’s Natsuki.

 

She’s on the floor too, but she’s here. Alive. Defeated. No.

 

“Come on, Natsuki.” she says. “Get up."

 

My throat is scorched, and I can’t take it any more.

 

We face down the god, the writhing beast, eldritch and almost beyond comprehension, a reflected in rippled water, a glow that confounds. Yuuko is at the forefront, spirit blazing, her will ironclad, fullmetal. I see the spectre of a jaw. I see the three of my friends in them. I see a thousand girls, trapped.

 

I see me. I’m there.

 

_“They’ve been mine all along. They’ll always be mine.”_

 

Yuuko lunges, all fire. She screams, heading straight for the beast.

 

“No. They. **WON’T.** "

 

[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C97PggkWp4w)

 

It hurts.

 

It hurts, so bad.

 

No.

 

nO..!

 

**STOP.**

 

** SŢ͝O͏P͢͠ **

 

** S̼̊̉̆ͧ ̷͍̼̘̫́ͫͯ͒T͉̰͖͙͓̬̯̝̰͂ͣͫ̓ ̠ͭͫ͋ͨ̄̑̈ͭ͞Ō̈ͦ͞҉̼̬̯̝͇̭ ̸̞͈̲̫͎͓̇̃̽̾ͥ͐ͧͫ̓P̵̩̦͖̘͎̟̖̜ͯͩ̑̑̏̈́̇ **

 

** S̸͉͙̹̪̫̤̭͇͇ͥ͗̾̑̂͑͝ ̶̹͕̝̲͉̜̖̰̮̰̣̖̙̫͐ͬ͊̽͋T̴͉̭͈̙̹͇̹͈̣̞͉̟̬̖͒̒̐̇͛ͪͫ͌ͬ͆͆̓̅ͮ͂͗ͪ̚ͅ ̢̫͎͔̲̙̽ͣ̓̈́̾͗O̶ͪ̊̑̚̚͘͜͏̞̳̝̻̬̳͖̲̥̳͖͔͙ͅͅ ̴̢̭̳̬͈͇̺͈̩͔͗̾͑ͯ̿͗̽̍̊̓ͭ̉͢͞P̡̊ͦ͂ͭͫ͐̂̓ͨ̈́ͤͤ̂̓̋̔̏̚̚͘͞͏͍̮̜͈̻͓̪̝͍̩̘̰͎̹͇͍ ̛̬̹̘̤̦͉͙̗̱͔͇̲͍̈́̂̇̆ͪͨ̐ͮ͂ͥ̂ͩͭͪ̏̅̕̕Ṡ̸̢̨̥͙͔̺͔͖̼̬̩̮̻̩͐̏̋̈̀ͩͅ ̧̹̖̤̩̹̬͍̌͌͗̽ͣ́̓̎͟ͅŢ̵̵͍͖̭̞̠̜͎̙̲̗̪̗̮͎͕̖ͣͪ̇̆̎̅̾͒͛ͥͨ̾ͯ̚ͅ ̱̬̤̺͚̮̟̂̾̏͑̽ͭͫ̄ͤ̆̎̔̋͆̌O̸̡̝̲͎̠̻̗̯͖̥̰̯͍͈̦̹̝ͬ͒ͩ̌̋̃̑ͩ̒̅͜ ̵̡̨͓͕̭͖̖͔͚̣̖͇̮̩̙̺̳̋̉ͭ̊͛ͯ͂͆̄͑ͫ̆ͩ̈ͦ͌̆̎͑ͅP̵̛̝̞̩͕͙̝̰͌͊͋͗̊ͫ̉̉̌̎̾͂͆͒̃͂ ̵ͫ̉̆̿̀̔̐̒ͪ͏͏̷̡̦͎̥̱̩̠̝͇͚͉͉̟̖̳̱̖S̢͕͇̠̱̭̲̫̗̅ͮ͗̍͂͌͆̈́̌͐̓́͛͂̈́͑ ͔͚̙͎̹ͬ͗ͤ̐͜Ţ̴͎̱̦̬̲͈̟ͩ̉̊ͤ͋͠ ̷̵̗̟̘͍̹̯͎̫̼̦̮͕̤̹̥̈̋̇ͧͬ̍̑̆ͯ̊ͩͧ͠O̒͌͐͐̀̽̔̏ͥͨ͂͞͏̧͎̟̬̬͚̘̘͚̟͙̝̲͓ ͙̜̦͔̹̬̟̦̭̣͈̋͛͌̓ͪ͐͌P̵̓͆̏ͬ͗ͪ̇ͥͩͥͫ̿̄̏̊͐̈́͏̸͍̪͔̗̞̯̯̖͎͔̮̪̹̟͇̲͔ͅ **

 

 

** S̷̡̧̢̝̖͕͙̰̝̫̣͙̜͍͓̫͇̽̾͑ͭ͗͌͊̅̇̔ͦͦ̽̃ͦ͟ͅ ̶͚̞͓̱͈̤̟̩͕̯͕̪̪̭̼̜̞ͥͮ̎̈͘͢͡ͅTͦ̿̊ͦ́̒͜҉͍̱̥̜̭̞̱̗̱̹̞̪̝̤̠̟̹ ̴̢͖͈̤̞̐͗ͥ̈́ͬ̐ͬ̾̉̏ͤͭͤͬ̒̿͊̚͟͞ͅO̺̤͎̺̠͈̰̺̤̙̰͍̖̼̤͌ͭ̎ͣ͠ͅͅ ̂ͤ͛ͪ͌̑ͭ̐ͥͧ̋̌̇̿̄͆͛́͏̴̶͚͓͇̥͍̹͕̣͖̣̜͚̮̰̮̜͇P͕͖̥̬͔͈̰̯͚͙͈͉͖̙̘̒ͤ͋̾̍̿ͥ̔͗̀ͣͬ͟ ̓͌ͨ̾ͩ́̎̾҉̛̦͎̭͍̳͚͉͎̮̫̘̲̳!̡̛͎͈̣̮̫̣̜͓̹̝͎̰̦̬̗̤̳̱ͥ̎̃ͩ͋͐̑̃̈́͂̍ͣͬͥ̔́̃ ͧ̊̓ͯͫ̑͜͏͓̰͈̼̝͙̳̤͚͍̝̠̣ͅ!̊̑̓̅҉̹̬̼͕͕̭̙̯̣͎͟͢ͅ ̸̡̛̙̞̺̣͔͂̃̑ͩ ̶͚̖̥͔͍̦̗̹̹̥͉̲͈͎͕̦ͮ̉ͭͪ̿̎̈́͢͝ͅS̢̻̭͙̪̹̺̘̳̰͓̖͓̼͍̮̠̏͗̈́ͥ̉̓̒͢ͅ ͐̋̓͊̏̑͐҉̢̝͎͕͖͚͔̖̫̖̦̳̦̫̼͚̤̮̝͇͟!̛̮̳̘̙͇̟̤͔̺̟̺̰̹̭̘̔̑ͯͣͦ̄̅̒̓ͣͪ̄̾̐̓͘͠ͅ ͛̄̔̆͌̔̉́́ͭ̐ͤ͑̚҉̼̖̝̝̻͔̻̺̻̣̳͝T̃ͪ̅̏̄҉̢͇̮̯͚̣͚͉͔͟ ̧̡̺̤͉͙͈̱̮̥͐̃ͮ̀̎ͬ̂ͤ̏͞!̢̲͎̱̙̱̗̺̱̞͎͍̳̪̗͕̜̣̗͑̄̌͗͐̊̌ͥ̾̐ͣ͗ͬ̋ͥ̌̓̒ͩ͞ ̧̻̤͖̜̎̔ͧ̽̆̐̄͗͐͋ͧ͘͟P̧̦̟͔͚̠̺͍̖̯̩̃ͥ͗͌ͯ̈̑̽ͫͤ̎́̑̑͢ ̛̮͈͓͍͚̱͉͈̤̼̘̫̣͔̫̙̳̭ͧ͛̆̏̇̿͆̆͛͞͠ͅ!̷̡̪͓̣̜͕͉͙̣̝̞̤͈̪̲̋́̂̎̐̎ͯ̃̾̐ͪ́̚͢͟ ̷̺̞͇̤̠̣̞͙̦͉̠͚͂͌̾̎̎͂̂͜͢͡!̶̙̠͖͕̩̳͎͚͇̘̬̬̪̗̻͇͎ͪͬ̓̽̀̀̿̾ͮ̚̕̕͢ ͔͙͚̲͈̠̣ͮ̍͆͌̈̂́ͨ̐̃̿̓ͣ͘Sͧ̏ͪ͒̊ͧͫ̇҉̵͇̹͓͙͔̹̼͍̹̰̜̺̘ ̢̢͙̞̼̞̟̜̹̟̼͚̹̬̠͍͔̜̥͑ͭͬͬ̎̿ͦͫͭ̐̌͐ͪ̈́͐̅̓͗ͨT̢̪̩̝̟͚̪͚̰̘̺ͯ̾ͥ̆́ͨ̈́̀̍ͥ ̭͖͖̲͇͐͑̒̅ͪ̕͟͝!̧͕̞̤̣̦͖̤̠̲ͥ̆̎͑ͪ̎͢ͅ ̒ͬ̐́̑ͩ͌͏͏̤̻̬̞̱͚̞͔̗̼̣ͅ!̧̡̰̺͖͓̣̱̎ͣ̅ͦ͆ͫ͊̄̓̑̐̈́ͅͅ ̶̡̢̼̹̣̰͓̠ͥ͒͒̅ͩ͐̓̿ͤͥ̔̋͞ͅS̨̧͎̼̼̝̩̝̳ͯͮ͋̉ ̷̴̢̰̭͓͕̺̺̪͉̭̟̝̐̐͌̑͆̒̔ͮ͊̋̓͌̕Ọ̖̼̪̖̞̗̘̠̟͈͙̟̞̯͈̩̄̋ͬ̋͑͆͂̚͢͟͡ͅͅ ̢̤͕̯̳̟̯̱̥̗̙̝͓͈̃̈ͮͬ̈́ͣͨ̿́́̈́̈͜͞!ͧ͆̽͒̌͐̏̈́̏̾̓͋҉̩̹̳̮͝ ͆̇͛̓̈͂̚҉̶̷͔͍̲͈̘̻̖͚̘͘͝!̨̝̼̪̞͔͉̌͛͋ͮͨ̕͡ ̢̠̣͇̦̼̘̼͇̎͐ͨ̏̍̑̾͟͞ͅP̡̦͇̻̠͖͖̻̩͔̳̣̞͎̉ͣ́́̆̒͗̐̿̽̎̐̒̒͠ͅ ̢̛̦̤̜̞̘̫͖̭̫̲̫͉̝̫͋̈́̒͊͐͊̾̔ͭͦͦͧͪͣ̌̂ͪͩͭ͘͠͡T̴̸̴͓̬̫̳̜̗͉̩̫̮̺͉̺̺̘̙̳̾̎ͬ̋̿ͬ̔̎͊̓̎̓ͨͭ̊ͤ̇͘ ̶̛̾̾ͬ̆̆̇́͜͠҉͙̥̳̫̻ͅ!̸̜͙̼͍̟̜̬̪̣͓̦̬ͬ̉̔ͭ̄ ̸͖̦̩̰̑̾̏͋ͣͩ͒̇̉͊ͣ̎̆ͮ̋̽͢!̨̯͎̤̤̟̻̠͔̠̞̰͈̖ͣͫ̽ ̴̢̩͈̺̮̮̩͍͇̳̫̞̟̫͕͚̻̤̒ͩ̓͑ͣ̔ͣ̊ͪ̽ͮͦ̓̏͑̚ͅ!̃͗ͬ͊͛̊ͤ̇ͣ̏ͭ҉̨̙̯̻̲̱̖͖̻͙̼͇ **

 

** N̡̧̛̪͇͉̲̝̗̹̰ͩ̑͛ͫ̽̕͟ͅ ͉͚̥̠̥̟̟̳̖͎̖̞͍͔̬̋ͧ̈ͤ̿ͧ̈̌ͤ͘̕͞͞O̸̴͉̱̪ͪ̄͊ͪ̀ͣ͌͑̄̏̑ͩ̉ͬ͋̂̒ ͨ̓̐̃̉͊͂͗̂̚͘҉̨̼͎͉̠͔̜͈̙Ş̨͖̰͙̠̗̻̼ͦ̈ͭͪ̎ ̵̧͚̫̺̞̜͖̬̭̟̭̃͌ͥͭͬͫ͝!͔̭̖͎͇͉͖̦̤̺̞̯̩̞̠̱̮ͥͨ̃̓ͯͭͭ͝ͅ ̡̛̗͙̙̳̖̘̗̩̀̂̆͒̊̀ͧ̋͝T̷̡̧͚̣͈̭̯͓̣͖̠̱̹̿̔̔̃ͨ̈͞ ̨̛͍͈̪̪̟̳̲͂̒ͨͮ̓͗͌̏̇̔͛̍ͥ̍̕!̵̑͒̽ͭ́̇̓ͪͪ̃̐ͫ҉͕̤͔̪̯͔̞̝̣̺͖̫̱͕̦̼̯͚͡ ̘̥͖̮̟͍͙̹͚͈̖̰̮͇̣͂ͧ̉̂̔̀ͯ̾̄͑ͣ̽̑̒ͦ͗̉ͬ̚͟O͈̲̼͙̻̻͖͇͎̪̮̍̽̒̊ͭ͆̅͋̀̄̆ͮ͘͞͠ͅͅ ̤̲͙̰̜̘̙̜̫̘̃͆̓̈͊͒̚̕͞!͎͖͙̮̩͇͖̦̘̩͌̒̾͘͜ ̯͔̘͕̭̪̻͍̻̲̥ͬ̿̑̿̑ͥͩ̈́͛ͮͯ̈͜!̵̵̢̧̥̭͚̞͓̘͈͍͔͔́̾̈́ͭ̃ͮ͑ͩ̆̿̾͝ ̵̻͙̣̬͕̤͉͚͎͚̻̯̽̀̌̽ͧ͗ͨ̊͂̽ͪͪ̏̈̂ͯ̕͞T̽̒̅̐̓̓̾̾͛ͪ̆̇ͩ͊͗̌̂͋͏̧͚̺͍̭̱̣̫̘̰͡ ̭̝͉̝̟͕̲͓͕̼͕̲̻͈̼̯ͬ̅̓̂ͫ͂̓ͩͤ͐̔ͣ̏̄͌͋̐ͩ̕͝!̨̼͓̖̥͑͒̈́̌́͑͐ͮ͂͜͜ ̸͒̓̇̈́̆̍̽̇̆ͤ̔̋ͧͤ̽͟͞͞҉̙̮̩̼͔̞̪̳̦̖ͅN̨̧̛̹͉̺̭̱̼̩̣̭̲̬̳̳̺̰̙̖͎͂̈ͤ͌̅̓͐͆͛͗ͩ͐̇̇͆̄̊͡ ̴̴̪͕̤͙̝̯̹͔̠̐̔͆ͣͣ̃!̴̜̼̻̪̙̞̗̞̾̇̆̐̌́̋̍ͩ̓̽̏̑̇ͩ͡ ̵̷̞̝̞̯̰̳̗̊̄ͫͧ̓͒̎͡S̸͇͚̯̦̭̳̮̻͈̩̩̫̖ͬ̇̿ͬͥ̿ͯ͡ͅͅ ̴̤̣͚̹̭̫̱̺̮̙̟͑͛̓́̊ͤͯͭ̿͌͜͝x̮̰̱̘̖̞̞͆̓́̑ͤ̍̽͌͟͠ͅ ̵̡̡̛͕̤̣̥̹̪̠̳̩̬͔̱̖͈̰̬̦̌̒̓̾̒̄͒̊͗ͤ̓́̂̊͢P̷̴͕͉͈̝̈́ͣ̅͗̈́͐ͪ̎ͤ͟ ̷̨̪͖͎͙̯̩̩̝ͥ̽ͫ̏̉̑͊͂̾ͫͫ̚̚͜͡!̡̣̬̮̟̝̱͔̍̎̈ͧ̈ͯͬ̅̓̍̔̔ͮ̍̐̅ͩͣ͝ ̷̫̩͓̭̩̤̞͙̱͚͓̞̭̱̹̳̼͐͊ͮ͒̀̾ͩ͐͑̃̔̎ͤ͟͟!̢͖͙̗̤͍̩͐̂ͭ̒ͫͭ̓́͞͞ ̶̛ͣ͋ͧͯ̒ͬ͑ͦ͌̽ͪ̂͆̃҉̻̘̱͇̬!̗̯͚̼͔̠̱̦̻̻̰̥̌̎ͥͣ͡ ̞͙̜͔̙̜̫͍͍̳̦̦͋̒͂̈ͨ̉̌ͬ͠O͆͑̋̅̀͒ͫͯ̌̍ͤ̇҉̙͖̜̤̺̖̭̯͔̹̕ͅ ̛̞̞͙̦̗̰͇̜͖̠ͦͭ̏ͪ̚!͎̣̺̜͎̯̩̭̼͉̠͍̱̖̰ͩ̓̎̐͑͐̿͌͟͡ ̞̝̯͎͔͚͎̰̬̫͚̰͓͚̼̩̦͑ͫͬ́̽̌̕͞Sͦͦ̅͋̔͂̌̊͂͋ͥ̏̂ͫ̓ͩ̔̂̕͏͇͈͇͇͉͖̰̤̬̲͇͓̮̰̰Ţ̞̜͔͍̤̫͊͑̏̎̓̊͒̓̿͗͐ͥ̓͂̽̇͜ ̴̷̡̯̹̳͔͎͍̭̪̾ͭͥͯ̌͆̑ͅ!̿͌ͯ̈̆ͫ̂̾̄̃͊͑̃ͫͤͫ̄҉̴̨̰̤̰̣͙̦͕̤̦̭̗̫ ̷̵̨̖̰̞̙̗͇̰͉̙͈͉̦̖ͤͣ̌ͧ̓̿̽͑͟͢Ṕ̴̄ͨͭ̇̎ͩ̈́ͦ̑̀̂ͬ̄̎̐͟͠͏͍͓̘̰̪̺̩̪̳̜̤͟ͅ ̧̨̡̙̘͎͉̭̮̤̼͖̝͔̭̠̔ͩͫ͑̋͐ͫ̔̇ͮ̎̈̽̇̅̀̋́̃̕ͅ!̨̢̨̼̲̱̹̪̪͕̘̘̟̣ͦͮͥ̓ͤ͐̐̆̅ͬ̎̎͌̚ ̨͙̤͍̱̘͎̯̬̬̻͍̩̞͕̠ͥ͆̉̚͜!̴̖̺͎̞͓̠͖͕͙͔͓ͧ̿͛ͭ͐ͧ̌̾ͫͦͬͦ!̨̄̒͐̔͛ͫ̓̓̆҉̢̢̠̩̯̘̤͉̪͈̺̲ ̷̸̫̝̫̥͖̲̠̱̟̘̪̱͎̞̰̺̺̪̾̽̆̅͒̓͛͛̑̌O̷ͧ̽ͯͣ̃͛̅̃͐̈́͑̓ͩ̓̇̑̀҉̙̼̬̺̝͖̟̠͈̬͇̹͚͍ ̭̦̪̜͈̠̝́̅́̑̃͊̌ͨͬ͐̽ͮ̔̌ͬ͗͡!̶̮͉̱̟̦̭͙̙̙͎ͫ̎̃͌̍ͥ̎̈́̔ͯ̾ͮ̆͂͛ͣ͘͘͡!̛̺̞̘͎͍̬̩͑̊̑ͯ̋͐͢͢͡ ̸͔͖̮̤͖̜̳͚̦͇̥̳ͩ̓͛̍̉ͬ̊̄̽̚͠!̨̦̣̣͇̩͉͍̩͖͕̘̣̺̭̇͌͋͊̈̂̉̇̎̐ͮ̈́̐̓Ţ̵̷̠̪͈̘̝̭͔̭̳͇̮̪̰̪̙͎̎͆̅̇ͪͧͫ̊̿͗͆̃̇ ̎̌̿ͯ͏̡̦̭̬͉̝̭͟͡Ş̻̭͕̞̺̬͉̥̜̦̦̰͎̗̖ͪͧ͛ͧ̂̐ͮ̎͢͝!̸̝̼̯͕͈̥̻͕̝̔̃̃́ͦ̀̄̒ͭͨͫ̀̂ͧͯ̈ͩ͟ ̨͉̗̞̤̞̤̙̪̻̖̝͚͈̥͚̲ͪ̾̏̋͒̑̋͂̈́̓ͅn̘͕̭̪̪͕͍͕̠̹̣͕̮̝̘̗̣͒́̒̈́ͦ͋̑̑ͅN̢̻̗̗̭̰̄̒͂̿̇͊ͭ̕ͅ!̢̫͈̞̼͖̞̺͔̪̫̞̮͉̱̬̺̥̏̓̀ͦ͌̆̉̈̆̃͒͗̐͋̊̓ͬͅ ̛̛͔͚̫̗͉̺͎̽̄͐͆̆̄Ǫ̧̻̭͙̲̗̜͉̘͚̩̣̥̝̌̋͊͋͆ͨ̏̕͢͝ ̶̸̛̦̮͔͇̝̟̬̝̜̖̟̩͊̓̽ͭ͆̽ͥ͌̍͐̋͛̏̋ͧ͋̈!̷̨̖̬͙͎̻̻͖̦̟̦̮̩͚̙̭̼͚͕͔̄ͭ͗̇ͭ̑̑͊͊͒̆ͤͩͤͬ̈́̕͢ ̷̸͕͎̩̗̠͚̼͖͔͖̭̹̻̰͖͚̙̮̏̓ͫ̒̃̅̂̇ͧ͂ͪ̔̏̇ͬ̄̒S̖̣̱̱̳̦̺̬̟̠̲̩̜͇̞ͣ̈́ͬ̐ͪ̕ͅ!ͦ̈́ͧ̂̃̃̉̈́̍ͣ̆̈́̄͝҉̛̤̩̙̦͔̺͙̠̟̺̤̙̝̦̱̬̟̜̘͟!̧̨͕̥̲̰̥͔̬͕͔͇̝̎ͤ͋ͭͭ͌̐ͧ̓͊̏̔͒̉ͥͪ̕ͅ!̶̼̹̦͎̼̬͉̓̔͂̓̂̎̽̓̓̌ͤ ͦ̌̔̀̎̾̋҉̷͉̦̯͖̻͖̯̹͍͟͟T̝̯̫̩̄̃̉̈̑̔ͩ͐̓͑͛͢͝ ̵̖͉̜͚̪̣̦̰͖̫̏ͧͪ͂͜͜!̴̟͕̝̠̙̦̳̘͕̞͈̝̭̠̲̞͖̳͆̔̍ͬ̉͋͂ͪ̎̾ͯͩ̏ͨ̄̊͝ͅ ̸̴̡͕̗͉̘͚̮̫̖̞̬̯͙͖̄ͦ̌̃ͤ̓̋͑ͯͩ̈̂ͨͤͪͪ̔x̵̢͉͕̠̥̻̦̰̟̠͉͚̩̣ͣ͂ͪ̓ͮ̇̓ͧͭͨ̒̇ͩͭ̕͡ ̶̶̛̪͉̯̬̰̺̙̦̳̗̦̻͇̉͋ͩ̌̌̕!ͯ̈́ͫͣͣͭ̈́ͩͥͤͦ̄̌̊̌ͨ͂͟͏͖̗͚̻̟̦̦̤̮ ̶͐̋ͫ̏҉͓̟̩͕̫̬̟̤̩̼̫̖͔̠͝ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the ???? continues. 
> 
> chapter soundscapes (way too many):  
> walt - Yoko Kanno (Zankyou no Terror OST)  
> Moon Touched - Darren Korb (Pyre OST)  
> Forbidden Knowledge - Darren Korb (Pyre OST)  
> Desert - Max LL (Sundered OST)  
> Corruption - Max LL (Sundered OST)


	86. 侘寂 Quartet 4.2.4 (Natsuki)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> buckle up.

[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lzifeTuMijI)

 

Even the cavern's lunette allows enough light to pass through, Skaia blessing our venture as we strike in the middle of the day.

 

The barren earth is crisp and dry, the soiled crust crumbling in my fingers as we enter the denizen’s lair. Tsukuyomi is waiting, patient, the portal from the seventh gate hovering like a constellation above it all.

 

_“It ends now.”_

 

Oni spread out to my flanks, each with their specific task assigned by Nozomi. Push, pull, observe, mark. With my left hand, I materialise a trident, helical handle forking out as it spirals, until the weapon is at least four meters long, hovering above my head.

 

With my right, I imagine a battering ram. An extension of myself to smash, to decimate. My heart swells as I feel the emotion crackle, spitting sparks of hope from my chest to my shoulder, engulfing me the way fire warbles across steel wool as it burns, down the length of my arm until the raw manifestation becomes solid, the most extravagant baseball bat you’ve ever seen.

 

Nozomi gives the command.

 

The squad of oni at my three o’ clock charge forth, putting everything they can into the first attack as they slam into the side of Tsukuyomi, who doesn’t budge, but I can sense the flinch. Fire and shadow burst from behind me, hurtling forth in stria that connect with their target, Yuuko and Mizore dancing their dance.

 

The trident goes straight for Tsukuyomi’s neck.

 

It dissipates before impact, some trick up the snake’s alley. I materialise four brilliant orbs, each the densest spheres of white you’ve ever seen, and I ready my right hand, in a position I’ve practiced for years.

 

“Batter up.”

 

All around me, we execute our plan with pinpoint precision. Nozomi coordinates everything, her swords of light swerving and flitting about the cavern. My first three balls zip straight for Tsukuyomi, and the denizen effervesces, an intangible smokescreen as he materialises in another corner of the chamber. My projectiles ricochet, and two find their mark anyway. The fourth connects with my bat, and I send it straight into Tsukuyomi’s maw.

 

I am the fifth. White propels me forward, and I slam downwards into his skull, feeling the collision in my bones, wreathed in hope that’s repairing the shock to my system as fast as it damages me.

 

A tree starts to crawl out from the impact zone, the blow I’ve dealt planting its seeds, and I’m already prepared to reap what I’ve sown. The roots dig into Tsukuyomi as it spreads across his skin like an epidemic, the branches starting the sprouting a coil around him, taking hold of the floundering beast. I drive my bat into the ground, and more arboresque structures start to take shape, piercing the moon deity and corkscrewing through him in criss-cross angles. Now, whichever direction he moves in, he’ll be in a world of pain.

 

Vindication roars from my chest as I hear his agonised screeches, not a single intelligible word from him. But I know it’s not over. It can’t be.

 

“There!”

 

The illusion dissipates at once, the spell broken as Tsukuyomi rematerialises in the center of the chamber. There are oni standing at the periphery to guide us, watching for discrepancies in our senses, and the ones on the ground are already along the length of the denizen, grappling his length and holding fast.

 

“You’re not slithering out of this one,” I mutter.

 

With a flash I take to the skies, and with twice the speed I come thundering down, a bolt of lightning as I crush a section of Tsukuyomi’s spine. I follow up with the discipline and ferocity of a meteor shower, cratering segments of him as I pummel his body with my bat. The earth shudders, and the walls threaten to collapse in on us, but I won’t let them. Hope sustains us.

 

“Third time’s the charm!” Nozomi calls out. I pour the white into the ground, spreading my anchors as they twine around the pillars of reality, and I establish a foundation for us to build on.

 

"Got you."

 

Yuuko doesn’t need to be told. She accepts my gift and the white showers her in a beam that erupts from the earth, blessing her and filling her with strength and temperance. She channels my hope and creates a sun, so blinding yet resplendent that Tsukuyomi is ensnared, yet it burns him. It burns the fucker at a stake with staged for him, and her rage sets the hook that we will use to drag him to his downfall.

 

The same as we did with Amaterasu. Through overwhelming force. Through the mandate of righteousness.

 

We don’t need to prolong this any more.

 

“Tsukuyomi!”

 

I point my bat straight up and the white comes crashing down on me, a flood of energy as my wings emerge, and the barren land becomes a garden at my feet. I feel everyone else’s resolves, their will merging with mine, as I set out with judgement in my hand, tearing into Tsukuyomi in a matter of breaths.

 

The garden grows around him, the flowers and weeds united in purpose, as the trees begin their final hold, constricting and contracting as they grow exponentially sturdier, layer after layer piling on top and weaving into one another. With each stroke against Tsukuyomi, I paint my endgame, my picture of victory, until I am certain that we have won, until that certainty rings true and the bells of reality call out in response to us, their melody bending to ours with each chime.

 

In the end, I stand at the apex of his form, my bat sharpened into a blade, and I kneel not in submission to the fallen god, but in the way an adult humbles themselves before a child. The tip of my blade skirts the breathing mass, its rhythm shallow and strained, and with one swift push I will thrust myself into its core, and it will be done.

 

Tsukuyomi’s body is a dull ivory. Maybe in better days it would’ve inspired awe, but today there is nothing of that pearlescent sheen, only the scars of a broken mirror. I stare into him and see myself stare back, a reflection unrecognisable from the damage I’ve dealt to him.

 

"Return the ocean to us,” I command. It is a wish that has to be spoken.

 

I can already hear the percussion of the ocean, the way water comes into contact with itself and folds, chafes, rolls. I can smell the salt and imagine the tears from the way the breeze will sting my eyes.

 

_“I cannot return what you are already drowning in."_

 

"So, you speak.”

 

Tsukuyomi doesn’t have a mouth, not in the way normal creatures do. This telepathic connection reaches into one's mind, but I am resilient enough that his last, futile resort, will be for naught. 

 

_"You haven’t even_ realised _, have you?”_

 

“The only thing I’ve realised is your defeat,” I reply.

 

_"Let me tell you why you lost.”_

 

“Lost? You might not have eyes, but clearly you can see-“

 

_“The very first assumption you and your companions have made, rightfully, was that you needed control._  
You thought you could wrest it from me.  
The Knight thought that you could set a stage that would’ve been yours, as though plans were never made to be broken.”

 

“You yammer and yammer, but none of your mind tricks will work on-“

 

_“You come into my domain, believing you have the one thing that matters. But you don’t."_

 

The blade’s tip presses against his skin, like a poker scalding skin. "I can finish, this any time. It only takes one-"

 

_"Then, try it.”_

 

I steel myself for the follow through. It would be so easy.

 

_"You won’t. Why?”_

 

"I-"

 

_"Is it because you want to lord over me? Relish in your perceived triumph?_  
Or you think you can get something out of me, by keeping me alive?  
Oh, how arrogant, what delicious arrogance.”

 

“Your words mean noth-"

 

_"The greater the pride, the higher the climb. The harder the fall."_

 

I commit, pressing my weight into the weapon, as it slides into Tsukuyomi.

 

Golden silence ushers in the warmth of Skaia’s light. It’s ov-

 

_“As I was saying,”_

 

No. Not possible. Tsukuyomi churns beneath me, like an engine just revving up. But I’ve worked with impossibilities every moment since I’ve set foot in this universe. I can deal. All I need to do is-

 

_“You march, outnumbered 10 to 1, with presumed allies by your side, bringing me my victory served fresh-“_

 

“The oni don’t belong to anyone. I have taken them away from you, you won’t be able to-"

 

_"They were always mine. They have always been mine.”_

 

I stab once more, and feel the emptiness that follows as Tsukuyomi shrugs it off, moving against his restraints, and I dredge up my garden, summoning all that I have to keep him down.

 

_"And the time. Oh, how naive. As though I would let such a cardinal aspect slip me up, not when I already have dominion over the other-“_

 

“You talk too much, just shut up-"

 

_"You think it’s noon? Look up at the sky, the sky that’s from lies, and tell me what you know to be true. As if only a few hours have passed beneath the surface-"_

 

“NO!”

 

The garden recedes into the earth, and I prise its quintessence from all around me, all the white, all the hope, drawn back to me, as I consolidate every last speck into the nucleus moulded by my palms, calling upon the infinite to my fingertips. Tsukuyomi rears up, flinging me off him, and I take that momentum, the position he’s given me, straight above him, gravity as my aide, as I unleash everything I have at him. I pour the universe into his destruction, to force a full stop towards this wretched sentence.

 

I don’t know how long this goes on for. All I do know is that the white flickers off me as I step back onto the earth, fizzles out as I land with grace. Tsukuyomi is gone. Erased from this world.

 

Heaving, spent, my body shakes with relief. With laughter. I’ve done it. We’ve done it. The past few moments I’ve tunnelled into a singular goal, but now I should really check on the others. To regroup, make sure they’re doing fine, prepare to return-

 

_Thank you._

 

Imagine a point of absolute zero temperature. Imagine a kernel of it coming into existence. Imagine it haunting you for the rest of your life as it takes shape in the middle of your heart, the chill incomparable to a thousand deaths, a million deaths. 

 

_This is all you._

 

Imagine the knowledge of the end, and being unable to do anything about it.

 

_Wake up, Nakagawa Natsuki._

 

[[♪]](https://youtu.be/r4Um6okMHcE?t=162)

 

The scene shatters, the light fracturing like glass, giving way to nothing but grim. A cavern much smaller than what I had originally imagined. Tsukuyomi unharmed. Nothing up till now has been real. Nothing-

 

I don’t recognise Nozomi, even when my gut knows its her. She’s a smear of red, and I don’t know the difference between skin and bones and muscle. Yuuko’s at her side, confounded beyond denial, shaking the body to no avail. I feel the bile rise, gagging on my own vomit as I fall to my knees.

 

Nothing is real. Nothing can be real-

 

_"Poor souls. None of you even know what hit you.”_

 

“Nozomi..! Come on… Mizore! Mizore, …help..!”

 

Mizore is lost. Lost to insanity. Lost to despair. I don’t know. All I can see is her silhouette in the distance, convulsing, a deranged cackle scattershot from her lips. Yuuko tries to comprehend. She fails.

 

I pick myself up, planting one foot, and then another. I can do this. I can-

 

_“No.”_

 

White disgorges from the earth like geysers, the earth swollen from its exit wounds. They rise in pillars, drawing my attention towards the lunette, the moon hole-

 

It’s all dark, a gradient of indigo. Only a blip of light, Skaia like a moon in the sky.

 

One after another, the revelations pummel my gut, leaving no room for breath.

 

Desperate, I look around for the oni. None of them are near us. They line the perimeter of the cavern, stationary, uncannily statuesque. Their lustreless gems are a wilted rainbow, but as the white championed by Tsukuyomi starts to accumulate, its paleness moults into a uniform monochrome, reacting and resonant.

 

I can do this. I can turn it around. I have to believe I can. Control. Power. Dig into the well, you cannot empty that which is limitless, summon it once more and it will come to you, dredge it up and-

 

Nothing.

 

For the first time since my awakening, since the white heeded my every command, I have nothing. It’s not responding. I can’t use it.

 

“What the fuck did you do?!” I scream. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY ABILITIES?!” 

 

The white - my white - continues to spill out from Tsukuyomi, answering only to his whims. And I feel so small at the other end of it.

 

_"Those two questions are at best tangentially related, so let me answer the latter.”_

 

I yell as loud as I can, as though I could force it out through believing hard enough. It has to work. It can’t not work.

 

_"You surmised that I would have illusionary capabilities._  
You assumed correctly, but alas, assumptions always leave room for fatal margin of error.  
Speculation tends towards an incomplete picture."

 

Everything turns up empty. I only look constipated and silly.

 

_"Your abilities? Of_ course _they are. What does a moon do best?"_

 

_It reflects._

 

A moon doesn’t emit its own light. It has to come from an original source to begin with.

 

I’ve fallen hook, line and sinker.

 

The implications haven’t even fallen on me, the magnitude of my fuckup not registering, and Tsukuyomi just continues. 

 

_“But you’re wondering what happened to your limitless well, hmm? Take away infinity from infinity, you’re still left with infinity."_

 

Mathematics has never been my strong suit, but somehow in this heightened moment of crisis, the rhetorical answers flood my mine with stark, disturbing clarity.

 

_Unless you multiply it by zero._

 

_“As if belief and hope_ was _the be all and end all.  
As if simply_channelling _willpower and trust could gain you the unprecedented ability to rewrite the universe as you wish._  
Your white is a blank canvas to paint possibility on.”

 

The sharp, stinging pain is apparent now, pervading my psyche as I clutch at my head. “What-“

 

“ _You have your good friend here to thank. I never managed to grasp how to so completely impose my_ will onto _others, such that it eclipses them in totality."_

 

Yuuko. Yuuko’s ability. When did she-

 

Another wave of nauseating fear attaches itself to me, and I can feel him. Invading me, my thoughts, my being, uncompromising and unyielding, without any room for breathing.

 

_“Do you understand now?”_

 

I don’t know what to do. I should be able to do something, anything, but I don’t-

 

"Come on, Natsuki.”

 

Yuuko hobbles to my side, stern determination on her face. “Get up."

 

“I… I-"

 

A single column of unbridled intensity ascends from Tsukuyomi, and its illumination sweeps through the cavern shelf. Thousands, no, tens of thousands of white gems flicker, the sheer numbers I’m faced with dominating my will. Faced with the sublime, there’s just no way to react.

 

He had them all along.

 

_“They’ve been mine all along. They’ll always be mine.”_

 

“No. They. **WON’T.** ”

 

I can only see a blur of fire, as she launches herself into the fray, and that second of helpless, of despair, sublimates a decade’s worth of regrets into a single instance.

 

“Yuuko, no-!"

 

Like the gavel descending, the entire cavern shakes with the force of Tsukuyomi’s will, as he places a metaphorical foot down, and seizes Yuuko in his grasp. He retaliates by forcing himself on her with all of her, and she’s screaming, shuddering in mid-air, as though burning, wracked with unimaginable pain.

 

_“It didn’t have to be this way. She didn't have to be tortured in an inferno of her own making."_

 

The colony of oni can only watch on, impassive, every last one on this planet answering to him and only him.

 

I find my face in the dirt, plunged into the earth as I choke on it, straining against my captor as I attempt to look at them.

 

“Suntory,” I croak, the force of my coughing hammering against my lungs. It’s the final betrayal that breaks me, the way the gentle giant I’d once known puts me down with such apathy. “You too?”

 

I get nothing.

 

White undulates in a tremendous display of strength, finding its anchors in the cracks of reality, as I am forced prone before the moon itself, at his mercy. As one, the oni give a stamp, and the resulting shockwave can be felt coursing through my body. The army continues in rhythm, like a chant, like a prayer.

 

Tsukuyomi washes me in white, releasing it all back at me, and I’m battered by the unceasing presence of his will. I don’t even have the energy to scream.

 

_"You see, big girl?"_

 

I grope for anything, any hold I can get, nails scraping against the ground, my neck threatening to snap in order to just look up. Yuuko’s still screaming, flailing, and I just want it to end. I want it to all end.

 

_"You think you are a tree, Natsuki? You are insignificant.  
You aren’t the spruce, you aren’t the pine, you aren't the fir, you aren’t the cedar.”_

 

The silhouetted symbol of nature shatters downwards, as Tsukuyomi claims a new garden as his own. Saplings start sprouting around me in a hallowed shade of aquamarine.

 

_"You are the walnut and you will be cracked.  
You are barely a seed that will never see the light of day.  
If you aren’t suffocated in your prison of soil, you will_been _trampled on before you can grow any higher than an inch."_

 

"Please, stop,” I beg. "No. Let Yuuko go. Let-"

 

_"You swore on your life, did you not?”_

 

I’m ready for whatever comes next. “I did. _I did._ Take me, just leave her-"

 

Tsukuyomi laughs, patronising and demeaning.

 

_"I’ll let you off easy. How about hers’ in exchange?”_

 

When I realise what he’s about to do, I fight with all my life but it’s useless. I know it’s useless. No no no-

 

"NO! DON’T! IT’S MY FAULT. IT’S-"

 

_"Her misery deserves to end, anyway. Yours doesn’t."_

 

The distended tendril rips through Yuuko like paper, tearing her insides as it punctures a hole straight through her chest, her stomach. She deflates, life escaping from her before my eyes, like the string suspending her body has snapped. She’s gone before I can even cry out her name.

 

[{♪}](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZxnqSTzq6-w)

 

I watch Yuuko’s body slip, fall, the way her limbs fold into herself, unable to hold anything. Come on, get up. Yuuko, get up…

 

_“We’re done here."_

 

"Yuuko, no. No… no... no…."

 

I crawl to her, even as Suntory presses my face into the dirt, and my teeth run through the earth, moist from my tears, mucus, fluids, I don’t care… Yuuko… No…

 

She’s just there. Dead. Gone. I killed her. I killed her I killed her _I killed her-_

 

_“It wouldn’t do for you to lose your mind here. Come now.”_

 

Tsukuyomi drives the grief away, and I do all I can to bring it back, my guilt leaden as I want to let it consume me. But before I can get anywhere close, I return from incoherence and I just want to lose myself again, to die babbling and crying, the pathetic way I am, but I can’t. I’m a coward for wanting to do so, and I’m not even allowed this. Crystalline thoughts torture each excruciating moment because now I will remember everything that’s happened, everything that’s happening.

 

The white garden’s like a curse now. Even as the ethereal dragonflies flit from flower to wilting flower, they only exist to mock me. Its pristine beauty distorted, bastardised, incongruent, wrong wrong wrong wrong. I’m sick of it. I can’t. I-

 

“Yuuko… I…”

 

I can’t… But I have to… I...

 

Forced into a grovelling position, I claw my way through the dirt and mud, through the twisted garden. Suntory continues to be my watcher, impassive, their weight almost overbearing but I have to do this. I have to bring Yuuko home.

 

I have to bring Yuuko home.

 

My fingers reach her first, skin against cold skin, and it almost feels like winter, the desert night unforgiving. The wind howls through the cavern, and as I reach my body, Suntory releases me, retreating. I curl up against Yuuko, cradling her within me. I don’t want to let go. I can’t…

 

“I… I-I’m so s-so… sorry… Yuuko, I’m sorr-… sorry… I’m-“

 

Hope has abandoned me. Literally, figuratively, absolutely and completely. And with it, I feel detached from myself, my soul leaving me, my spirit extinguished. What heir? All that I inherit is rubble and ash and death.

 

Ash flakes like snow, the garden a bed of white roses blooming all around us. A white flag that can’t even be raised. Surrender not even an option.

 

Only loss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we end.
> 
> chapter soundscapes:  
> Tangled Earth - Audiomachine  
> YouSeeBigGirl/T:T (Cut) - Gemie (Attack on Titan S2 OST)  
> von - Yoko Kanno (Zankyou no Terror OST)
> 
> i hope the payoff works. comments are always appreciated.  
> thank you for reading my story.


	87. 侘寂 Quartet 4.1.4 (Yuuko: Solister Ascend)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please read this chapter on desktop and not mobile, due to formatting issues. well, if you've been reading soundscape properly with the music you'd be using a computer anyway. thanks.

[[♪]](https://soundcloud.com/user-391532877/kendells-death)

 

I see the light and the fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter soundscapes:  
> Kendell's Death - Trevor Yuile (Orphan Black Soundtrack)
> 
> we're finally at the bittersweet (mostly very bitter and sour) midpoint of this fourth arc. we'll be heading into intermissions (guess how many) to check on the rest, before we head back to our tragedy quartet.
> 
> obviously i wanted to make the first ascension memorable in some way, even given the circumstances. in more ways than one, the experimentation in this arc's gonna be much more than arc 3. arc 3 was just the beginning.
> 
> unnecessary trivia detail that happened here: when ascending on your planet’s quest bed, you would normally go to the battlefield, or at the very least wherever your dream self is, having merged with it. yuuko manages to remain on her planet through sheer force of will, forcing her dream self to merge with her original body as she ascends instead of the other way round.
> 
> thank you for reading my story. there should be an update this saturday, and then one for each intermission some time each week.


	88. Interlude (Asuka)

Try all I might, but it’s not my fight.

 

There’s no other way to put this, but what the second years suffered was a tragedy. Even though some of them theoretically came out stronger, reborn, a second, new start, there’s no doubt that it was a huge step backwards for the four of them. We can offer, and we can help, but ultimately only they can save themselves.

 

I have bigger fish to fry. Hah, I’m aware of how ironic that sounds, when hubris seemingly defines me and burns everything it touches. I can only throw myself into the fire, sacrifice whatever I have on the altar of progress. Someone has to, and no one will.

 

Your humble servant offers herself as tribute.

 

But back to bigger fish. Larger irons. A whole universe from a frog.

 

I find it highly unusual that none of the others have given indication as to unlocking the secrets of productivity. Maybe there just aren’t the right matchups of knowledge and ability, but if you go back to basics, you can essentially double your time by maintaining consciousness between dream and waking selves. Why have a 24-hour day when you can extend it into 32 and if we’re happy with sleep deprivation, even further than that? It’s like a crude kage-bunshin, if you’ll pardon the analogy. Don’t deny it, you grew up with Naruto too, you weeb.

 

It’s been taking all of my effort to monitor and contain Derse. Occupying the capricious queen, creating diversions, keeping her interested enough to not send everything hell. Derse has the capability to end the war anytime, with how short certain sessions can be. They’re just not aware of it yet, or they are and are just biding their time for the heck of it. Not in the mood, or some other serendipitous excuse. 

 

The activity’s also a good way to flex my abilities, and hone my skills, which are going to be a great boon. It’s always beneficial to build a substantial foundation before I inevitably ascend as well.

 

Darkness descends on the Land of Music and Summer, and with it the long night. Maybe I won’t be observing from the moon today. It would do well to be on the ground. Plus, I need a drink.

 

I have just the place in mind.

 

* * *

 

[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NTTzATkMpQo)

 

The Ace of Clubs' signature electro swing sweeps me into its rhythm as I enter the bar. Jukebox jazz and dithering DJ work as one to elevate music into an Olympus of dance.

 

I’m noticing a trend of defiling Reina’s ‘safe spaces’, but it’s not like she has a monopoly on everything. Plus, I found the library first.

 

The patrons know who I am. They don’t know what I’ve done, but that’s hardly of any concern. I can easily bail without batting an eyelid if things go south, that much I’m capable of now. At the counter, I call for one summer mascot sangria. The familiar sunset colours bless my glass as I take a sip and enjoy the show.

 

Up front on stage center, we have the Savant. Devilishly competent and renowned, he’s perhaps one of the few people that might be able to keep up with me. One of the other secondary, ulterior motives for coming here. He’d be a good matchup, and the bugger flocks to my kind like a moth to a flame.

 

His voice is coy, mischievous, capable of reaching a rich baritone despite retaining a feline quality. Crowding around him are a pangea of instruments and equipment, ranging from the classical to modern but alas, no euphonium. It’s a bit disheartening.

 

He’s spotted me alright, from the moment I’ve entered. He has a showman’s quality, the performer’s talent of capturing attention but more importantly, giving the impression of giving it out as well. The sheer awareness of presence, of his body and angles to face his audience, the way light intermingles with shadows, the timing of how his eyes settles on the crowd. It’s a masterful bebop, of perfect synchronicity.

 

But even as everyone believes that he’s looking at them, I know he has his eye out for me. I don’t indulge him with acknowledgement. I continue to sip from my glass.

 

When the bridge hits, he shimmies off the stage onto the dance floor, mingling with the crowd as the nexus to which they all rotate around. It’s like he’s choreographing them, and they don’t even know.

 

You know, maybe I should stop praising him like this. He’s getting to me.

 

He’s also headed for me.

 

The floor breaks off into their own smattering of patterns, as the Savant takes seat next to me. He raises a finger as the bartender concocts his usual, sliding it across the counter.

 

“Must you hit on every human girl who walks through those doors?” I ask, nonchalant, framing the conversation.

 

He flashes a sparkling set of teeth. “I can’t help it since you’re all such stunning beauties.

 

“I can’t dispute that,” I reply. “Although your data seems to be collected form a sample size of two.”

 

“I must be very lucky, then.”

 

The Savant calls for another glass, and raises it to me. “A first toast, then?”

 

“And the last,” I reply. “I wouldn’t want to overestimate my drinking ability, and I’ve had quite a bit to impair my judgement already.”

 

There’s the clinking sound as he nibbles on the rim of his glass. "A shame.”

 

We finish our respective drinks, and I gesture to the bartender that I won’t be having any more.

 

“So, what brings you to this part of Derse?” the Savant asks. “You just might be more enigmatic than me.”

 

“Can’t I come out to have a good time?” I reply. “Sometimes, I just want to relax and unwind.”

 

“I had the impression that you came out to play,” he responds. “You’re incredibly relaxed and poised… but you’re also hungry.”

 

“A shame this isn’t a pub, or I could’ve had something more substantial to go with my drinks.”

 

He opens up his arms. “It’s my club. I’m sure we could whip up something if you truly desired.”

 

“…no,” I decide. "I’m game for whatever you have in mind.”

 

“I’ve yet to draw inspiration from my muse,” he lounges. “Tell me, what’s someone like you doing being a lone ranger on a festive night like this?”

 

“Maybe I’m out to find more company,” I reply.

 

He fiddles with his half empty glass. “The Prince came here alone as well. Do you happen to have a strained relationship as well?”

 

I laugh, throwing my head back, almost unseemly. “I’m probably the least liked amongst my entire party. But no, I’m not having romantic complications, nor am I looking for love. I’m just here to get the job done.”

 

The Savant leans in. “The job?”

 

I look him in the eyes. “The job.”

 

He grins, having found his hook, his muse. With effortless grace, he reclines backwards and leans into the counter. “How can I help?”

 

“Honestly?” I reply. “I don’t think you can. Not in the capacity you’re usually used to. Despite your far reaching connections it’s nothing I’m not already aware of.”

 

“Surprise me,” he chuckles.

 

“I’m serious. But maybe, I’m open to some… consultation.”

 

“Ha!” comes his booming laughter. “You know that I normally charge? Should we start talking about my rate?"

 

I scoff. “You’re offering the help. I have yet to accept.”

 

“Well put,” he replies, crossing his arms. “My first time is a trial session, then.”

 

“I’m not sure if I want to take you up,” I say.

 

“Then why are we still talking?”

 

I lean into him, placing one hand on his knee. “I like to keep my options open.”

 

The Savant ponders, stirring his glass, the tilted level of liquid swishing about in a hypnotic, rhythmic trance. He then downs the remainder, smacking his lips as brings the glass to the counter. 

 

“I’d like to present to you another option, then.”

 

“Do tell.”

 

“Let’s gamble on it.”

 

“Beg pardon?”

 

He reaches into a pocket in his vest, and produces a coin with a flourish. He palms it, a practiced display of sleight of hand as the shimmering metallic disc disappears and floats between his knuckles, until finally its clasped between thumb and index. With a flick, the coin arcs in a steep parabola, and he catches it, pressing the flipped side against the back of his palm. Throughout all this, he doesn’t break eye contact with me.

 

“Choose heads or tails,” he challenges. “If you’re right, you’ll accept my advice. If not, you’re free to go on your way.”

 

“I’d be free to do the latter if I so wished,” I point out.

 

“Ah,” he exhales, rolling his head back. “But where’s the fun in that?”

 

I can feel an twitch in my left hand, a subconscious tell. It’s all about the game, isn’t it?

 

“You know,” I start, signalling the bartender for just one more drink. “I’ve been thinking a lot, lately. About the way I’ve been working.”

 

“A magician never reveals their best tricks,” he warns. The Savant is still listening, for all intents and purposes, his body language primed for empathy. I’m not just taking it at face value. With types like him, there’s always something more. Something deeper.

 

“It’s no secret,” I continue. “That I feel like I work best alone. Or when absolutely necessary, at the direct helm or all the way at the back when dealing with others. In positions of absolute control.”

 

His fingers tap out a certain rhythm on his palm, the shadows unable to betrayal the coin’s face beneath it. My drink arrives.

 

“This has led to… strife. And in light of recent worrying developments… the point being that-“

 

“-you want someone else,” he replies, clicking his tongue. “An equal, someone to truly stand by your side.” I glance at the bubbles fizzing from the ice, the minute bobbing as the cubes melt and shrink.

 

“I’ve already taken up your offer,” I say. “So what are we playing for now?”

 

“Your consequence,” he says without missing a beat. “You already know my advice. Are you going to follow on it?”

 

My thumb skirts the condensation on my glass. “Your influence extends as far as the Veil. You’ll never know if I’ll honour our agreement.”

 

He nods. “I only have your word. And I hope I’m not mistaken when I say that it’s all I need.”

 

So confident. But never cocky. Ever likeable, genuinely likeable.

 

Maybe that’s how we’re different. Maybe that’s what I can learn.

 

“You know that i can’t lose right?” I challenge him. I can feel my ability already prickling, like a muscle aching to be flexed. It’s taking me all I can to restrain it.

 

“Try me,” he grins, and it’s a half open-mouthed, ecstatic grin. “I’m feeling lucky today."

 

I raise my glass to him.

 

“To your health.”

 

“And yours.”

 

The fingers holding the coin down attempt to swipe it off the backhand, so that the Savant can go for his glass, but he finds that it isn’t there, any more. Looking up, I have the coin in my free hand. He raises his eyebrows in amusement.

 

I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.

 

“Catch,” I tell him, after we’ve taken our swill. “Heads.”

 

I flip the coin in his direction.

 

* * *

 

[[♪]](https://tobyfox.bandcamp.com/track/chill)

 

Even on repeat visits, they never cease being majestic fools. I can only imagine how it’s like to tame a gryphon, ride with it as they take to the skies, prowling and galloping and feeling the muscles and tendons attached to the wings do its work as they push against the wind in order to achieve lift. They continue circling the sole spire of civilisation on this planet, awaiting their hero to step up and claim responsibility for them.

 

Copper forms the foundation of this planet, bathing it in its blueish hue, which though might’ve been ones lustrous, now seems washed out and muddied. When the lights scatters open hitting the rock, impurities accumulating over the years wear it out, even as I spot a trace of vivid chrysocolla from time to time.

 

My headscarf flaps in the steady stream of wind, picking up mineral dust that my glasses shields from my eyes. I’m tentative as I stand in front of her door.

 

I can’t back out now. Even though there’s no pleasant conclusion from this. Not with what I’m here to do.

 

What do I really want?

 

My knuckles find the door. Will she know? She’ll know.

 

Let’s just hope I won’t make things that much worse.

 

When the door opens, I see the first repercussions, of a broken, battered girl, of a warning, a proclamation. There’s no other way.

 

“Hey, Nozomi."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter soundscapes:
> 
> Bad Boy, Good Dummy (Cement City) - Toby Fox/Tape Five  
> Chill - Toby Fox
> 
> asuka.
> 
> thanks for reading.


	89. Interlude (Midori)

“Knock knock.”

 

“Who’s there?”

 

“Sapphire.”

 

“Sapphire..? Who?”

 

“This soup's sa-pphire it’ll warm you right up!”

 

“Aha... nice one, Midori.”

 

[[♪]](https://infiniteammo.bandcamp.com/track/snow)

 

I turn the knob of Aoi’s bedroom door open. Not like it wouldn’t be unlocked, with the amount of security she has going on in the front. Much more since the last time I came here.

 

Aoi’s all bundled up in her haven of blankets. It’s not freezing here, just chilly at most. But she had a bad episode, caught outside in the middle of a storm. Surveying the land, scouting the tundras that lead to Hephaestus.

 

The canteen of chicken soup is still steaming. I create a cushion of space to secure it, the porcelain spoons clinking against its side. I set two bowls in mid-air, because of course I’m going to have some of this amazing soup, and program the ladle to scoop the rich goodness into both bowls. 

 

Space abilities really are like magic, straight out from the books. I even manage to push back some dribble down the side of the canteen.

 

“You need me to feed you?” I tease Aoi.

 

“Would be appreciated,” she smiles, turning and tossing such that her caterpillar body can get a better angle.

 

I blow against the spoon, before sending it to Aoi. She takes a full mouthful, gasping at the heat.

 

“Peppery,” she comments.

 

“Told you the soup was fire,” I grin.

 

“Too much and I might start to sneeze,” Aoi replies.

 

I shrug as I take some sips of my own. Next time, I could tone down on the spice. “Well then, you can sneeze all your cold away!"

 

"Pretty sure that's not a thing,” Aoi chuckles.

 

She reaches out for her spoon and bowl, and I gently nudge them towards her, setting anchors so that sudden movements won’t upset the soup. I watch her drink as I puff on my share, the way she nibbles at her spoon to test for temperature before downing her portion. When the bowl is lukewarm, she takes to slurping the whole thing in one go, chugging it like water. She asks for seconds, and thirds.

 

“I didn’t know you could be domestic,” Aoi smiles.

 

“Well, I had to learn here, right?” I reply. “Plus, the recipe is pretty simple.”

 

“Mm,” she replies. Even as she seems content with the soup, there’s a grey cloud hanging over her.

 

Aoi's eyebags look worse for wear, dark semicircles plaguing her. It’s not just the cold.

 

“Rough night?” I ask.

 

Aoi shrugs, lips pressed against each other. “Like any other.”

 

She tucks her blanket sheets closer to her body. “You know that one time you had that really bad nightmare?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Imagine… well maybe it’s not that bad, but like that intensity spread out over a whole week. You’d think being able to dream normally without a dream-self is a plus, but somehow this universe just has to make everything weird."

 

“Weird isn’t always bad.”

 

“No,” Aoi replies. “There’s weird-bad. And there’s weird-good. There’s you."

 

She reaches up to run her fingers through my hair. I giggle at the way she finds her way through my curls and locks.

 

“Little fireball, shooting across the sky,” she grins. “Your flames don’t lick me one bit.”

 

Warping space around me, I allow my hair to dance, and her fingers are like clownfish in my anemone, elementals in my ‘fire’. Aoi gives a damn good massage, and I feel guilty for enjoying it when I know how worn out she is.

 

“Hey…” I start, not knowing how to finish my sentence but just feeling like I had to say something.

 

“Yeah?” Aoi replies. She’s wisdom and she’s grace. Always trying her best, even when the odds are stacked against her. She doesn’t want to admit it, but she’s been a light in troubled waters, someone so many of us here look up to. And seeing her like this… so tired… her dazzling sea-green eyes having lost their sheen… it’s heartbreaking. I want her to have good dreams again. I want her to see the wonder that is in everything we touch. I want to be her universe, and she can light me right up.

 

She’s my star.

 

I glance upwards. I have an idea.

 

“You wanna go stargazing?”

 

* * *

 

Aoi’s house is a fortress in its own right, one of the towering achievements of Sburban architecture. Unlike most sensible people, who just live on the ground floor and allow everything upwards to be accessory, Aoi lives on the fourth floor, because why not? The answer is that she’s getting paranoid, that’s why. Each room looks almost the same from the exterior, like some stalker-murderer would enter her place and she’s set up this elaborate mechanism to stall for time.

 

That all being said and done, she doesn’t have a lift, for the aforementioned reasons. Hampering convenience, although there is a secret transportalizer somewhere. Doesn’t matter when I’m here. As I fly up the spiral staircase, I feel like Superman.

 

Her top floor - the 89th - has been refurbished to become an observatory of sorts. A dome of glass, coated with materials that basically ensure that it’s sturdy to weather any attack that’s not from a denizen. I’m sure if some of us wanted to find a way past we could, but there’s absolutely no reason to do so.

 

This space doubles as a greenhouse project that Ooi tried to get off the ground when we first arrived, to pass the time. But her planet’s weather is temperamental, and most of them was lost to the capricious frost. Believe it or not, I have a greener thumb than her, and in our restoration efforts, we decided to sow a more resilient crop, uniquely suited to her planet. Camellia, dogwood, holly, heather.

 

I reshuffle the various elements to make a clearing for us to lie down on. Aoi brought along a pile of blankets.

 

“It’s pretty,” I muse, as Aoi sighs and shakes her head.

 

Snow glides across the insulated glass, melting and then evaporating. The evening sky is clear enough, and as night falls, we find ourselves gazing upwards in our puddle of cloth, fingers intertwined. We chat about happy things, angry things, silly things as the sky darkens, and the clouds give way to a black we project our imaginations upon.

 

At one point Aoi starts craving for chips. I zip off to procure a bag for her. She says she doesn’t care if she ends up with a sore throat tomorrow.

 

“I’m still not sure what you mean by stargazing,” she asks. “There aren’t… any.”

 

[[♪]](https://infiniteammo.bandcamp.com/track/dusk-stars)

 

“Look… closer,” I tell her. “For the patches of lights, the spots and specks.”

 

Aoi frowns. “There’s… Skaia. Some version of the other planets… are we looking out for the Veil?”

 

“Maybe?” I grin. “Maybe more. Maybe it’s just light reflecting off snow. But they will always be there. The stars.”

 

“Hmm…” Aoi ponders, squinting. It’s nice to be able to try to do something for her.

 

“Remember our sessions together?” I say. “Bring your mindfulness into the now. Let the points emerge.”

 

I see them myself. A whole ocean, waves of pepper and salt. From the corner of my eye, I watch Aoi’s mouth hang open, as it comes to her. That semi-trance state of fascination. 

 

“And with stars, comes the constellations.”

 

“Patterns in the sky,” Aoi replies.

 

I hold up one particularly triangular chip. “Found the dorito constellation.”

 

“That’s just a triangle,” Aoi chuckles. “There are triangles everywhere.

 

“Lemon-lime flavoured triangle,” I reply. “My triangle’s better than all the other triangles."

 

“I cannot understand how you can eat something so sour.”

 

“Out of spite!” I grin. “Well, we have to give it a name."

 

Aoi holds up one chip of her own. “You know what comes to mind with triangles?”

 

“ILLUMINATI!”

 

“NO! Okay actually, now that you’ve mentioned it, the Eye of Providence makes for a very compelling case.”

 

“See? I’m a genius.”

 

“Oh, stuff it. Fine. I’ll call it Illuminatus.”

 

“Laaaame.”

 

“Let’s see you do better.”

 

“Have you forgotten? I’m the ambassador to the wellspring of boundless creativity-“

 

Aoi knocks her head lightly against mine.

 

“Ow! Okay well… triangles… green triangles…”

 

“Green?”

 

“Trust me on this, yeah?”

 

“Obviously it has to be green-“

 

“Shhh…! Well. Because constellation names have to be pretentious and mysterious sounding-“

 

“Uhhuh.”

 

“-and triangles… oh! Rocks tend to be triangular!”

 

“Circular, more like.”

 

“Not those kinds of rocks. Gems!”

 

“Oh.”

 

“So you take a green gem… Emerald? Too basic. Jade? Too… Chinese.”

 

“Not wrong.”

 

“Ah! Peridot.”

 

“Peridot?”

 

“Yes! Pronounced Peri-doh, to make it classy, like the French.”

 

“I think you have a very skewed sense of language and culture, Midori."

 

“My constellation name is still cooler than yours.”

 

“Can’t argue with that.”

 

I munch on my chip, my fingers tracing lines in the sky. “Horoscopes are one of the cutest things humans have ever done.”

 

“How so?”

 

“It’s like… they put together shapes, finding geometrical motifs up in the sky that at best vaguely resonates with certain objects and concepts, and then ascribe said elements with mythology and intrigue. It’s… amazing, the kinds of things we do when we put our minds to it.”

 

The back of Aoi’s hands bump against mine. “When you put it that way… we are pretty great storytellers, huh?”

 

“You know…” I start. “I wonder what stories they’ll tell about us?”

 

“They already are,” Aoi replies. “Nothing but adulation and veneration-“

 

“But we know those stories are wrong,” I say. “That our struggles run deep. Our history, our roots, our battles, our relationships.”

 

I move closer to Aoi, two, three, four points of contact, just knowing that she is here, that she’s close by. “When we create our own universe, become the goddesses that watch over them - oh wow, just saying that out loud gives me goosebumps - but when we do. Do you think we’ll be in the stars as well? And that they will sing our songs and tell our stories?”

 

“Maybe they will.”

 

I tend to get carried away with the whole universe thing. I think it hits me hardest, considering that I’m the individual responsible for it all. Bilious Slick is mine to groom. We will fight the fight and win the war but the birth of something larger than all of us lies in my tiny hands. Aoi on the other hand… is far from enthusiastic. I can tell she’s a tinge uncomfortable, but she still pauses for reflection, pensive.

 

Hard to do otherwise when in the presence of… something beyond you. The sublime.

 

“I wonder what our shapes will be like?” I joke, a segue into something that’s less depressing for Aoi. “I still think normal horoscope shapes are useless."

 

With both hands, I sketch twin pincers in the sky, squeezing points of light to mould together something that resembles a crab. An actual crab, not the squiggle of lines that’s supposed to form Cancer.

 

Aoi raises her eyebrows as she watches me work. “That’s not how horoscopes work.”

 

“It should be!” I protest. “At the very least if you can’t sketch out the entire thing, they should look like the various symbols we give them. Cancer should be a 69, not some…” I wave my arms to illustrate nonsense.

 

“Well, at the very least Capricorn looks more or less the way it should,” Aoi replies. Her fingers trace lines between the lights, and I can see the way she connects the dots. “As long as it looks conical, it does the job for me."

 

“You know, I always kinda knew you were a Capricorn,” I tell her. “But it just seems… so off. You’re not capricious at all. You’re probably the most steadfast person I know."

 

Aoi gives me a ‘tsk’, but I know it’s praise to her all the same. “And how about you?"

 

“Scorpio,” I grin, proudly. “Beware my stinger!"

 

“You know, I’m not surprised at all,” Aoi smiles. “Little terror.”

 

I roll over until I’m on top of her, attacking Aoi with little tickles as she attempts to push me off. We squeal and we laugh, rough-housing about, until my tiny body is all tired out. We’re both small in stature, but the difference is significant enough that we’re not at eye level. I roll until I’m lying on Aoi’s tummy, and I feel her exhale beneath me as we continue to look at the stars.

 

“You think they’ll put our constellations next to each other?”

 

“Mm?”

 

I turn such that I’m facing Aoi’s chin. “Whatever our shapes may be… however we turn out… I think it’d be nice to be next to each other.”

 

“Yeah,” she replies. “It would.”

 

“Would make sense too, given our aspects. Opposites attract, no?”

 

Her only reply is the rise and flow of her stomach. I decide that I shouldn’t press against her diaphragm for too long, and roll back to her sides.

 

“I know of two constellations that are close to each other,” I say. “Two lovers in Greek myth that found their way into the night sky, immortalised for millenia.”

 

“They’re all Greek, aren’t they?” Aoi points out.

 

“The Western world has its ways,” I tell her. I reach for Aoi’s hand again. I hold her tight. “Let me tell you about the story of Perseus and Andromeda."

 

* * *

[[♪]](https://infiniteammo.bandcamp.com/track/the-hole-at-the-center-of-everything)

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“…our texts..?”

 

“We haven’t heard from you in almost two weeks, Aoi.”

 

“Look… now’s really not…”

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“…keep doing this. Please…”

 

.

 

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“…I’m fine on my own. Even then, I’m not alone.”

 

“We can see that. Is she..?”

 

“She’s fine.”

 

.

 

.

 

“…she’s good to me. I’m not going to let her down like that.”

 

“What about us?”

 

“Haruka, that’s not…”

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“…you don’t get to say that. Both of you don’t.”

 

“Hey, I know you’re not in a good place but watch-“

 

“At least I’m trying to make something out of nothing here..! I-“

 

...

 

“No. I’m not telling-“

 

“Aoi, please-“

 

“The one good thing I have, and I don’t even know if it’s real.”

 

“Of course it is. Just like at both of y-“

 

“I’m not like any of you! I… everyone’s just going off left, right and center, preparing for the worst and developing a foundation of feelings and relationships and I…”

 

…

 

“…you two don’t get to say anything. Not until you’ve sorted your own shit out.”

 

“That’s not fair, Aoi-“

 

“Is any of this fair? The two of you, so very clearly smitten with each other, basically inseparable, even a blockhead like Natsuki can see what you both have going on, and till now… nothing? Do I have to spell it out for you? Draw diagrams, maybe?”

 

“You’re tired. You’re upset.”

 

“You’re damn right I am. Kumiko comes crying to me because her crush is a piece of shit. Mizore has never been in the right place because the weight of history grinds at her heart. You two have the closest thing to something good going on, the best thing, and…”

 

“…Aoi.”

 

“I don’t know. I can’t even have this. She doesn’t deserve it.”

 

“You’re right. She doesn’t.”

 

…

 

“Please leave.”

 

“Aoi… you can talk to us. Alright?”

 

…

 

“We’re your friends. That has to count for something.”

 

...

 

.

 

.

 

…I don’t really know what’s going on. The words and voices float in and out of my head, but I’ve been stirring for a while, now. Empty silence seems to speak louder than anything, and muffled groans escape from my lips, certain limbs stretching while others remain dead to the world. Aoi’s… somewhere. She’s… quiet, the kind of quiet that’s troubling, but as soon as she realises what’s going on with me, she comes to my side.

 

"Oh, my little ball of fire,” Aoi croons. "Did I wake you?"

 

She tussles my hair with one hand, the other cradling the back of my head, thumb stroking in a downwards motion on my neck.

 

“Are… you alright?” I ask, bleary-eyed and still in a daze. “I heard voices. Was that-“

 

“Nothing to worry about,” Aoi replies, but her hand is firmer now. Gazing at the glass dome, all I can see is an inky blackness, a muddied smear of cloud swirling about in the night.

 

“Hey,” she continues. "The storm seems to be picking up. Since you’re already up, you should go before you get caught in it. Might take a long time before it subsides.”

 

“Aoi-"

 

"Please, Midori.”

 

She hasn’t averted her gaze, all this time. She still holds me like a baby, a fragile child she can’t drop.

 

She needs this.

 

I need h-

 

“Okay,” I comply. She puts me down as I blink a few more times, will my muscles to fire up so I can start walking. Aoi’s already throwing together my stuff. The wind outside begins to howl, but just barely. Maybe it’s my imagination. Maybe I wouldn’t have felt anything if Aoi hadn’t framed my expectations for an incumbent weather disaster.

 

“Hey, Aoi?” 

 

[[♪]](https://infiniteammo.bandcamp.com/track/shapes)

 

I pipe up, calling out to her. My voice cracks a little, and I can think of at least three reasons why.

 

She glances over her shoulder, looking back at me. “Yes, Midori?”

 

“You know I’m always here for you, right? We’re here for each other?”

 

Aoi consolidates my canteen, bowls, drops in a blanket or two for good measure, all in a sling bag. She rushes over, putting it over my shoulder as she comes in for a hug.

 

"I know.”

 

When we break off, I tiptoe and plant a peck on her forehead. She doesn’t react, she just looks… kinda sad.

 

“Thank you for tonight,” she tells me, as she leads me to her transportalizer pad. “It was really nice.”

 

“Don’t mention it,” I grin, as she keys in the settings.

 

I get onto the pad, and begin a small wave at her, but her house is already gone. My surroundings are replaced by something unfamiliar yet familiar at once. The latter, because it takes me a full ten seconds to realise that I’m back in my place.

 

My toes prod the pad. I head to the controls. No way back. I’ve never been very good with computers.

 

Even in the fluorescent haze of sapphires, I can tell that it’s still dark when I look out my window. I fall back to sleep without much problem, but when I’m on my bed, it’s almost like I’m sinking into unconsciousness. Like there’s a huge mass dragging me down, and I feel like I’ll never emerge. It’s so heavy, so heavy…

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

…light. Prospit.

 

Prospit’s Moon. My body should be lighter than ever, but today it weighs like the gold that surrounds me.

 

I could dwell on things. But… I’m here, again. I should hang out with the locals, just… do something. Any activity that will keep my mind busy. Connect the dots, draw shapes in the sky.

 

.

 

.

 

I still miss her.

 

I miss my star.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look, in romaji it’s even written and pronounced sa-faia, it’s a brilliant pun.
> 
> night in the woods feels for the soundscapes, because it’s a fantastic game, and fall’s not over yet.  
> in this chapter:
> 
> Snow - Alec Holowka  
> Dusk Stars - Alec Holowka  
> The Hole At The Center Of Everything - Alec Holowka  
> Shapes - Alec Holowka
> 
> thank you for reading.


	90. Interlude (Kumiko)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a late 4/13 special upd8 from me to you.

I glance at my reflection one more time, just a streak that carves up my face into a clean, angular fragment. Gripping my weapon, Venus’ shard firmly attached, I walk again into the smoke.

 

[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QMuG9Ognxbo)

 

It’s thicker, heavier since I’ve last properly set foot out here, oppressive with every intent of being so. I walk with unflinching purpose, taking careful notice to not focus on my breaths, despite it being counterintuitive. There are other ways of steadying my pulse. My mind wanders to Hazuki, to Midori, and it makes the connection to my heart.

 

All around, the smoke clusters into nebulous clouds, shapes devoid of any meaning beyond the general, and then they disperse. I know she’s watching me, and I know that I don’t need to announce my arrival with anything. I just have to keep going forward, and she’ll come when she wants to.

 

Glass crinkles beneath my shoes, as the sporadic hissing varies in its ebb and flow. Rock and sand forged in fire create these crystalline shards, even as they are serrated, rough, distorted. I will create my own trial, plunge my flame into the depths, retrieve the reflection with hands scorn. Through grit teeth and determination.

 

No need to run through my plan. That’s Nozomi-senpai. That’s Asuka. No need to trust in my strength. Like Yuuko. Reina. No need to trust in my abilities. Natsuki. Midori. Nor my body or bonds. Hazuki. And not my past, present, future. Aoi.

 

This is me.

 

Like geysers, the planet responds to my challenge. She responds to my challenge. Plumes gush out from slips in the foundation, a rhythm meant to intimidate, a show of force.

 

I dance. My feet walk, creating another path contrary to the one the plumes seem to be charting for me. I move ahead, but respectful. My heart tells me to walk, and I trust it. Despite the fear. Because of the fear.

 

I remain conscientious of emotions. Awareness being key among anything else. Emotions are what this world mirrors. Inner turmoil presents itself outwardly. Self conflict lays itself before you in discordant, turbulent terrain. You see, and you change. The kaleidoscope of emotions shifts, and you adjust your understanding, cooperate and accommodate. The horizon of expectation shifts, and you allow yourself to tilt into the uncanny valleys and contrite heights without being swallowed by them.

 

This is me.

 

She watches, and she matches me. There are figures that emerge from the mist, walking in lockstep. They attempt to pace me, guide me, throw me off. I remain resolute. My heart bends and my heart breaks. My heart builds. There are more than two ways. I choose the third.

 

I keep on walking.

 

The sand sweeps itself from beneath me. If my steps were less sure I would’ve been felled by it, unbalanced. Instead, intuition has held me up, and my rhythm resonates with that of the planet. I feel her frustration and allow myself to match her.

 

She notices the adjustment, the mirror held up to her. She reacts.

 

I am at the center of a whirlwind now, tumultuous, a hurricane whose path I dictate. I do not allow it to steer me. I do not steer it. I deny the maelstrom, so often connotative of destruction, implicative of violence. If this has to be a storm, I am its center, its anchor. I am the eye.

 

I can see.

 

The world rages around me, and I allow myself to be its calm. Its contrast, its balance. But I keep walking, each step just like the last, until the world has no choice but to accept me.

 

I’ve arrived. I stop.

 

"You’re here."

 

The mist coagulates, and she makes herself known. Light refracts off glass fragments that surround her, congealing into floating blobs. Smoke leaks through the cracks, highlighted and made visible by the refractions. The air wrinkles around her, like a glitch in cyberspace, infecting all it touches. It shrouds her in miasma.

 

On instinct, the corners of my mouth pull against each other. My tongue recoils, a bad aftertaste. But I have learned that instinct is not what you fight against, nor something you follow. You allow it to guide you, but you walk in tandem with it.

 

“Little miss precious. What privilege do I owe?"

 

Her tone is acerbic, as always. Being forced to confront myself - a version of myself - with so much venom and hate, it’s elucidating. I can see that careless, vicious visage that lies dormant within me.

 

I match.

 

[[♪]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ebb5AinKxWI)

 

My rhythm re-establishes itself. One thud after another. My heart is calmer, each step as I pace around her to its tempo. Glass and sand skitter as my feet drag them, and I keep the grip on my weapon firm.

 

“Mine,” I reply. “That’s what you wanted, right?”

 

She scoffs, and then laughs, her body shaking, the smoke distorting with each vibration. “You’re so full of shit! Not even going to own your new found selfishness? Not even-”

 

“Oh, but I am,” I tell her. “I’m claiming you.”

 

Even without expressions, she frowns. I can see it, feel the change in emotion.

 

“I don’t know what angle you’re coming from-“

 

“Because I’m not letting you know,” I tell her. “You can’t know without my permission."

 

To borrow the metaphor, I’ve made my emotions opaque, a one-way mirror. I’ve caged her in an interrogation room of my own making.

 

“Is this one completely fucked up version of ’the power was in you all along?’, because it’s not-“

 

“This is for me, didn’t you tell me that?” I cut in. “You begin and end with me. You are me, except that would be putting us on the same level, no - what was it you tried to deny? Ah, I beget you."

 

Third time’s the charm, and like a spell she is broken. I don’t let her finish. Won’t. Interrupt her flow, stumble her. If she had tried to do the reverse I would have continued on, commandeered the conversation, but it seems like I’ve shaken her enough such that she doesn’t retaliate.

 

“Looks like you know your place,” I smirk.

 

“F-… fuck yo-“

 

Without warning, I cock my bow, a normal arrow attached, and I let the projectile fly. It zips through the smoke, her domain, and it seals her lips. Bit by bit I am reclaiming what was once hers. It is now mine.

 

“You are but a pale imitation,” I state, biting back the urge to mock. I can feel the way she leaks into me. “A copy, a spectre.”

 

“And so what?” she spits, spiteful.

 

I force the answer in my posture, silence my answer and my victory. I think of Venus’ choice, I think about how I am destined to die for this land.

 

And I think about how there is simply no choice at all.

 

“Let’s establish the rules here, yes? Firstly, this planet is mine.”

 

She attacks, her body dissipating into a force that threatens to unbalance me. I hold. She passes through me, attempting to materialise behind me. But Venus’ shard glances through deception in my swing, and in its reflection I can see myself with clarity. Both of me.

 

The bifurcation connects. She screams, rolls, smoke tumbling as I stake my claim.

 

_Me._

 

“Secondly, you are mine.”

 

She exclaims, choked on a shotgun intake of breath. Struggling.

 

My first assertion is already bending reality to my fiction, and the planet responds to my will. I can feel the shifting mass, of glass and rock, of smoke and mirrors revealing themselves. This planet is an extension of myself. It has always belonged to me, so why shouldn’t I be able to reshape it?

 

And as I claim it and its inhabitants, my double begins to feel the consequences. She forfeits intangibility. Gravity roots her. Even as the laws of physics and reality ground her, she loses definition. She becomes less as she becomes mine.

 

_Me._

 

“Lastly.”

 

Authority. Authorship. One who writes. One who has power. One and the same, and for the first time, I can see why I’ve been divined as a seer. Because this is a tale that I was meant to read.

 

“I am mine.”

 

_Me._

 

The heart wants what it wants. A phrase twisted and distorted even as it rings true. But the heart wants itself. The heart is itself.

 

The connection goes through, threefold in unison. Not a ritual, nor promise, nor observation. A declaration.

 

An elision. 

 

I feel the culmination of experience, of anger, justified and unjustified, of emotion, like needles blooming into flowers across the surface of my skin. I feel the fragile petals crawl, the way the overlap and layer, imbricating as they engulf me. 

 

I will not be lost.

 

This is me.

 

Slowly, gently, the swell de-escalates. The rhythm I kept in my focus slips from me, as I approach the outline of myself, huddled up on the floor. She is shaking, terrified, almost traumatised.

 

I did this to her.

 

I did this to myself.

 

Reconciliation.

 

Forgiveness.

 

I drop the shard of Venus by her head. As I bring myself to one knee, I can see myself in her, and herself in me.

 

A little girl scared of being alone.

 

“I could claim all that I have claimed. I already have. But it doesn’t have to be this way. It doesn’t have to be mine.”

 

I reach out, her shoulder feels like clouds given shape, like misty rain given colour and purpose. 

 

“It can be ours.”

 

[{♪}](https://notquitereal.bandcamp.com/track/the-mystic)

 

With the veil of mist lifted, the planet is a barren expanse of shimmering glass. The light refracts, catches in the earth, crystallising in my palm as I place my hand in hers.

 

“We are no particular either in a sisterhood of two,” I tell her. “We share.”

 

Like that, I transfer back the power I wrested from her and more. The smoke that has sustained her, sustained this planet, it’s not gone. Its essence permeates all who enter the planet’s aura, and although I concentrated it in myself, I’m letting it flow back out. Into her, into everything. Visible or not, I wreath the planet with it, but I have control.

 

And I hand the reins to her.

 

She’s tentative, doubtful. I don’t blame her. Trust doesn’t come easy. But somehow, I think our feelings got through to one another. We create walls and we break them down, and then we can start to understand.

 

Her form becomes denser, and she slides her fingers between mine. I give it a squeeze, knowing that through hate and love, there’s a question and answer in that. A conversation.

 

We look at our world build itself back in our image, to our song, a new beginning. We watch the glass shape our reflections and see each other as one.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some really great songs i've been holding back on, in this chapter
> 
> chapter soundscapes:  
> Dormant - Darren Korb  
> Copycat - Billie Eilish  
> The Mystic - Jack de Quidt
> 
> i’m not dead, as y’all can see. i’m also not quite alive either. i’m existing in some sort of schrodinger’s limbo. i still maintain that i very much want to follow soundscape to its completion, although like all things, it will realistically take a lot more time than previously planned.
> 
> soundscape will update again in september. let’s say the middle of the month. september 14th.
> 
> see you all then.


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